


Bathe me in the waters

by dunklenacht310



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU in the sense that One Direction was only composed by Zayn Liam and Louis, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Harry, Gay Sex, M/M, Plane Crash, Top Zayn, but now they're solo artists, deserted island au, harry and niall are not famous, harry knows things about tropical plants, mentions of drug use, minor characters deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-11-28 19:35:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18212672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dunklenacht310/pseuds/dunklenacht310
Summary: “For hating him, you spend an absurdly long time staring at him” Louis chirped, landing on his ass in the sand next to Zayn.“Who?” Zayn asked nonchalantly.Louis rolled his eyes. “Goldilocks over there, of course” he said, gesturing to Harry who was by the shore with Kyle, one of the orphan children.“I don’t hate him and I don’t stare at him” Zayn retorted, carefully rolling the first of his three daily cigarettes. He’d rationed his tobacco, filters and paper so that he would have cigarettes at least for another month, although if he had to be honest, he doubted any of them would be still alive by then.-Zayn, Liam and Louis are solo artists on a plane to Barbados to have a vacation before their shows. On the same plane, Niall and Harry are also going on a trip. Something happens, and they get stranded on a deserted island with a bunch of other survivors. Apparently, nobody's ever gonna find them.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own or know any of the characters present in this work. I only own the plot and any eventual original character.  
> The title of this fic, as well as the chapter titles, are taken from the song "The Island" by Barbra Streisand.

 

 

 

 

Zayn knew, objectively, that he’d already flown maybe a thousand times in the course of his career, but his usual underlying feeling of mild nausea and sickening anticipation begged to differ.

“D’you remember when we three were still a band and you flew for the first time and we made you believe that the plane was gonna turn upside down?” Louis cackled as they finally made their way past the smiling hostess at the boarding booth and through the seemingly endless corridor that would take them directly into the damned plane.

Zayn eyed Louis with his best sarcastic smile. “Yeah, I do remember, cheers. That was when I first started thinking we should go into a hiatus”

Liam laughed. “Oh, c’mon, Zaynie. It was fun, and I’m sure you overcame your fear of planes since then”

“Tell that to my bloody stomach, Leeyum” Zayn muttered.

Being worldwide famous singers had its perks, because they were always granted privileged boarding when they flew, without lifting a finger themselves if not to retrieve their shiny, pre-printed flight tickets from their managers’ hands.

It meant Zayn, Louis and Liam were the first to enter the corridor, and they only started to hear the noises of more people joining them when they got to the end of it, the door to the plane still closed, and another smiling hostess waiting for the whole line to be formed before she could open it.

“Jesus Christ, Niall, why do I have to carry _both_ our suitcases while you only get your small bag?” someone behind them huffed.

Zayn didn’t turn, although the voice sounded very sexy and just on the right side of gritted, because turning to face people meant risking being recognized, and he already had the whole flying thing to deal with. He wasn’t sure he could manage being all smiley and polite to fans as well.

Someone else barked a laugh. “’Cause you’re the tallest, Haz”

“What does it even have to do with anything?” the first guy, _Haz_ , squeaked. The man named Niall only laughed harder.

“It’s gonna be okay, Zed” Louis sighed, rolling his eyes “We’re gonna enter the plane, get to our seats, and you can sleep through the whole ten hours”

“Would have been shorter if we went with the jet” Zayn grumbled.

Liam laughed. “Look at you, being all posh and missing our _jet_ ”

“I’m not _posh_ ” Zayn retorted indignantly “I’d just do anything to make flights shorter”

“Well, if we chose to go with the jet, we wouldn’t have been able to fly out earlier and enjoy three free days on the beach before the start of the tour” Louis commented.

Zayn arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t _choose_ shit though, you did it behind my back”

“And _this_ is exactly the reason” Louis grinned “Now stop being a pussy and be grateful for the beach days ahead of us”

The hostess, who was apparently listening to their conversation even if she wasn’t looking at them, snorted a bit and then pressed her lips together to stop laughing when Zayn looked at her.

“You shouldn’t use the word ‘pussy’ as an insult, it’s sexist”

All three of them turned at last, to face the man with the sexy voice, because now it was clear he had spoken to them. Zayn was instantly blinded by absurdly green eyes set in what was probably supposed to be a challenging gaze, but the man had a halo of angelic curls around his face, a very colourful flower-printed sheer shirt and dimples which showed even if he wasn’t really smiling, so the final result was that he just looked like a very tall and disgruntled toddler.

“Oh, fuck” the man – Zayn had heard a minute earlier that his name was something like _Haz_ – widened his already big eyes as he stared at Zayn.

“Harry?” the guy who was with him frowned “You okay, mate?”

 _So ‘Haz’ is short for Harry_ , Zayn thought with a smirk. “You were saying?” he said in his best sultry tone, because if he had to be stuck on a plane against his will, he might as well be flirty with fit blokes who were probably his fans.

The curly man, Harry, blinked twice and then cleared his throat. “Um, sorry. I was saying that you shouldn’t use ‘pussy’ as an insult because it’s sexist” he repeated, something akin to a dare in the tilt of his chin.

Louis arched his eyebrows, but he just looked at Zayn, and Zayn saw him wink at him even if only with his peripheral vision, because his attention was still on Harry.

“That said” Harry sighed, and lowered his voice while he kept his green eyes on Zayn “I am a fan, but I won’t ask you for pics or autographs ‘cause I know you’re afraid of planes and I reckon you don’t wanna deal with a ruckus as well”

Zayn found himself smiling. “I appreciate it, and I’ll repay you by making sure my friends stop using the word ‘pussy’ as an insult from now on”

The other bloke, Niall, peroxide blonde and with blue eyes just a tad darker than Louis’s, laughed. “ _This_ is the singer you’re obsessing with? The guy from One Direction?”

Harry gasped and proceeded to forcibly shut Niall’s mouth with one of his big hands. “I just said I don’t wanna cause a ruckus and you think it’s a brilliant idea to shout the words ‘One Direction?” Harry hissed “Besides, it’s not a thing anymore. He’s a solo artist now, has been for years. So zip it” he added, and then furtively looked back to the whole line of people behind them.

Zayn did the same, but luckily everyone seemed to be too excited about the imminent trip to pay attention to anything else.

“It’s cool” Zayn said with another smile, a more genuine one this time, and couldn’t help himself before nudging Harry’s elbow with his knuckles.

Harry’s lovely dimpled cheeks went almost purple, and he giggled embarrassedly. “Okay. Excuse him. Never knew how to shut his fucking mouth”

Zayn, Liam and Louis laughed while Niall punched Harry in the shoulder, but any further conversation – which included any chance Zayn had to maybe retrieve Harry’s number to use later on, since they were headed to the same place – was disrupted by the hostess finally opening the door to the plane and smiling at them to allow them to go inside.

 _I hate planes_ , Zayn thought as he gave his back to Harry with a last smile which meant _I’d have really liked to get your number to booty-call you once in Barbados but alas, our ways are already parting_.

Louis and Liam pushed Zayn forward, and they greeted the air hostesses already inside the plane before dragging their luggage through the tiny aisle in the middle. Zayn reached his assigned spot after bumping his suitcase against every row of seats, which Louis and Liam found fucking hilarious if their uncontrollable giggles were anything to go by.

“I am offended your fan didn’t give a shit about the rest of us” Louis stated as he grabbed his suitcase and stuffed it into the head compartment.

Liam did the same with his own luggage. “Right? He was like all dimples and green eyes at him, and for us? Not even a glance”

Zayn struggled with lifting his suitcase, but none of his two little shits of best friends moved to help him. “Maybe if you had written even slightly decent songs the outcome woulda been different” he huffed.

Louis and Liam made affronted noises, and blatantly made a show of sitting in their spots without helping Zayn.

“Um, the truth is that I’m not big on contemporary artists” Harry’s drawl announced his presence right behind them “With the due exceptions” he added when Zayn turned to him “Here, let me…” he also said, and then swiftly grabbed Zayn’s suitcase and finally shoved the fucker into the head compartment.

Zayn laughed. “Cheers. These two shitheads wouldn’t help me, and I hate working out, I guess”

“You’re all good” Harry said with a grin, and Zayn didn’t know if he was supposed to interpret it as a ‘You’re welcome’ or as a ‘You’re fit and famous and I’m flirting with you’.

Either way, he smiled at Harry while Louis and Liam rolled their eyes, and moved to let Harry pass, his friend Niall on tow. They only walked to the row of seats right behind Zayn, Louis and Liam, though, and Harry glared at Niall as he patted him on the shoulder and sat down, not a care in the world for both their suitcases.

Zayn moved to be a knight and help Harry even if he clearly didn’t need the help, but Harry was quicker and had already settled the luggage in their own head compartment before Zayn could even decide to walk up to him.

Louis’s snort made Zayn finally turn to look at his friends, and he rolled his eyes and sat down next to them, ignoring their shit-eating grins.

He heard Harry and Niall struggle and bicker as they also took their seats behind them, but he resisted the urge to turn around and talk to Harry some more. He told himself that he would wait until after take-off, when the annoying seatbelt signs would be switched off, and then he would speak to fit Harry and sneakily suggest that he give Zayn his number.

No matter how fit Harry was, though, Zayn’s tiredness for having woken up at an ungodly hour took over, and he was asleep barely five minutes after the plane had taken off and stabilized itself in the air. He was so tired that he didn’t even grip the edge of his seat as hard as he’d wanted to.

Zayn had a weird dream featuring green eyes, long ringed fingers, dimples, and some kind of earthquake.

He woke up when everything started to quake too much, so violently that his teeth started to rattle and he bit his own tongue, and the oxygen mask popped out from above his head, hitting him in the face while Louis grabbed his arm so hard it hurt.


	2. Lay your dreams beside me, only stars will listen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I know we’re all gonna die very soon if no one finds us" Harry said grimly "And… I’m not one of those you call Hopefuls. I think I’ve accepted nobody’s gonna find us. But at least I can try and make sure everybody’s safe as long as it’s still an option”  
> Zayn nodded. “Do you think they’re just being naïve? The Hopefuls?”  
> “They’re parents, Zayn. They have to be hopeful, because otherwise they’ll have to admit to themselves they’re gonna watch their kids die eventually. And I don’t think that’s something any parent would resign themselves to”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know or own any of the characters, except the original ones.  
> The two songs quoted in this chapter are "You've got what I like" by Gerry and the Pacemakers, and "Good Years" by Zayn Malik.

 

 

 

_Twenty days later_

 

Zayn hated and envied the Hopefuls in equal measure.

They were the ones who still had hope that someone would eventually come and rescue them all. The name Hopefuls had been given to them by Louis during one of the heated discussions he had with them almost on a daily basis. The discussions were most of the time tamed by Harry, lovely, calm and collected Harry who wasn’t one of the Hopefuls but didn’t feel like they were stupid for sitting and waiting on the shore to scan the horizon every day.

Zayn didn’t hate Harry, but he was very close to.

Twenty days had gone by since the plane crashed. Zayn would have lost count on day three if it wasn’t for the small, wood-carved calendar Liam had hung in their place.

 _Place, Zayn, really?_ , Zayn scoffed to himself.

If Zayn had thought that the survivors of the crash would arrange themselves into some sort of ‘Lost’ organization, he’d been mistaken. There hadn’t been any democratic elections for a leader (although if there had been one, it would probably have been Harry fucking Styles, with his smiles and dimples and general ability to charm the knickers off everyone in a twelve-mile radius). There hadn’t been any wounded people for the only survived doctor (Cowell, was his name) to tend to, because whoever had been seriously hurt after the impact had died shortly after anyway. There was apparently no fucking way to perform surgeries in the middle of nowhere, no matter what post-apocalyptic TV shows said.

Louis and Liam had taken upon themselves to count the casualties after they’d made sure all three of them had made it alive. They’d gone to the corpse of the plane with some other volunteers and they’d retrieved the bodies. 94 dead, on a 130-seats plane. It had been a fucking tragedy.

Of the thirty-six survivors, fifteen had been critically wounded, and doctor Cowell hadn’t been able to even fathom a way to help them before they’d died as well.

That had only left twenty-one people on the island on whose shore the plane had crashed. They’d buried the dead in the outskirts of a glade someone had found at the edges of the small rainforest that covered almost half of the island. That night, Zayn had been wandering around the sparse trees and had seen Harry Styles sitting cross-legged in the glade, a pile of passports by his side, as he looked at each of them and carved the names of the dead into stones to set them as tombstones.

The island was so little it could be crossed in barely a day of walking, and had been deserted prior to their arrival. It probably wasn’t even featured on maps and naval charts, which was the very reason Zayn, Louis and Liam had soon agreed that no one was ever going to find them there.

The Hopefuls could wait by the shore all they wanted. It was useless.

It had taken barely a couple days after the accident for people to start dismantling the plane corpse to get material to build shelters. The weather had been merciful those first days, but soon enough the sun had started to burn their skin, and the rains had made all the kids and even some of the adults fall sick. Cowell had been able to save them all using the not-well-furnished stash of medicines, but it had been a close call.

Everybody had agreed on the medicines thing after a weak initial protest. All the survivors had then collected their own medicines, plus the medicines in the dead people’s luggage, and given them to Cowell so that he could keep them and use them as required on anyone who needed them. It had been for the best, and Zayn had gladly made the first step and handed his meds to Cowell so that people could maybe follow his example.

Harry Styles had looked at Zayn with something like fondness that day.

It wasn’t that Zayn really hated Harry. He just found Harry’s composed and calm behaviour to be unnerving sometimes, because there had been some rough days at least in the beginning of their Robinson Crusoe situation, and Harry had barely gasped. Not even when a couple people had started beating the shit out of each other to get their hands on fish and fruit the others had managed to collect.

Some people just tended to themselves and had little to no interaction with the others, roaming the island for food and sitting on the shore to fish (or stare into nothingness waiting for a ship if they were Hopefuls). With the exception of Niall Horan.

Niall, Harry’s best friend, was able to be a social butterfly even when stranded on a deserted island, apparently. His lazy attitude on the plane had only been a façade to piss Harry off, because once faced with the danger of dying very soon on the island, he’d been first in line to help anyone who needed it. Niall, Liam and Louis had been the ones who had built most of the makeshift huts from the plane remnants, helping families with kids, people who had lost their friends, everyone.

Zayn had done his part as well, but he’d never been particularly strong. His heart had warmed up a bit at the small grateful smiles everyone had sent his friends’ way when they’d helped them.

Niall had been lucky, because not only his best friend had been spared from the crash, but his guitar had also made it safe and sound to the ground. So, naturally, every other night he and Harry organized bonfires and communal dinners, to keep the spirits up.

Most of the people, especially the kids, and Louis and Liam included, loved the shit out of Niall and Harry for that reason only.

And well, Zayn could be unnerved by Harry Styles all he wanted, but he also noticed how Harry (and Niall, to an extent) was taking care of the kids who had lost their parents in the crash.

There was a total of fourteen adults (Jolene included, because she was eighteen and she got extremely pissed if you tried to count her among the kids) and seven children on the island, three of which were now orphans. Harry and Niall had taken all three of them in their ‘house’, and they made sure the children were fine, well nourished as best as it could get, healthy and with their morals mostly intact. Zayn had seen Harry give his own food to the kids many times, ending up only eating some pineapple slices while Niall gave him scolding glances and he just shrugged and smiled.

“For hating him, you spend an absurdly long time staring at him” Louis chirped, landing on his ass in the sand next to Zayn. Zayn was sitting under the shadow of a tree by the first huts, one of which was Harry and Niall’s.

“Who?” Zayn asked nonchalantly.

Louis rolled his eyes. “Goldilocks over there, of course” he said, gesturing to Harry who was by the shore with Kyle, one of the orphan children, building a castle with the shiny white sand and saying something Zayn couldn’t hear, but which was making Kyle giggle and cover his mouth.

“I don’t hate him and I don’t stare at him” Zayn retorted, carefully rolling the first of his three daily cigarettes. He’d rationed his tobacco, filters and paper so that he would have cigarettes at least for another month, although if he had to be honest, he doubted any of them would be still alive by then.

“Well, he firmly believes you do hate him” Louis said, examining his fingernails.

Zayn frowned. “Huh?”

Louis nodded. “Yep. Heard him talk to Liam about you this morning at arse o’ clock. Did you know those two do fucking _yoga_ at dawn?”

Zayn found himself laughing. “Leave it to Harry Styles and Liam Payne, worrying about chakras and mindfulness when we’re all stranded on a bloody island” he commented “What was he saying?”

Louis grinned. “You’d like to know, wouldn’t you”

“C’mon, don’t be a shit”

Louis hadn’t been as level-headed as Zayn with his cigarettes, and had finished his in the first ten days, so Zayn rolled one more and offered it to Louis as a bribe.

Louis rolled his eyes, sighed, and took the cigarette. “Liam was asking him why he doesn’t invite you to the bonfires anymore” he revealed after lighting the cigarette, struggling with the barely-working lighter “And Harry said he stopped inviting you because you always answer you have better shit to do, and seen that we’re on a deserted island, it can only mean you don’t wanna see him ‘cause you hate him”

All the conclusions Harry had drawn from Zayn ditching bonfire nights made Zayn’s head spin. “What?” Zayn chuckled “How can _anyone_ retrieve so much info from me just not going to a bonfire?”

Louis shrugged. “It’s Harry Styles. He might be ace at calming down people and making this island look like a fucking resort, but I think there’s a lot of self-confidence issues under that”

Zayn scoffed. “Harry Styles? Self-confidence issues?” he asked, sceptically.

“Do you know why he was going to Barbados?”

Zayn just shook his head.

“Wedding of his ex” Louis revealed “Can’t imagine it would be a confidence booster, getting on your knee and propose to the love of your life and be rejected, only to be invited to watch him marry someone else less than a year later”

 _Fucking hell_. “How do you even _know_?” Zayn hissed, staring at Harry, partly to be sure he wasn’t listening, partly just because Harry smiled a lot, and his dimples were unnervingly distracting.

Louis shrugged. “’Cause after the first week I pulled my head out of my arse and actually talked to him?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I dunno, Zed. Like, I get that he bruised your ego when you told him that if the plane hadn’t crashed you would have asked for his number to booty-call him, and he answered he wouldn’t have given it to you in that case” Louis replied “But we’re on a deserted fucking island, we’re probably gonna die in a short while, and the bloke likes you a lot. Is it really worth it just to spite him for not wanting to be booty-called?”

And _that_ was the main reason Zayn had decided to ignore Harry Styles, if he could be honest with himself. It had seemed the only plausible reaction, at the time, but Louis made it sound like something stupidly petty, and maybe he was right.

It wasn’t like Zayn was all high-and-mighty about his own looks, he wasn’t that big of an arsehole. He knew he was decent, and he knew that that, paired with fame, allowed him to basically never be refused, but he tried not to let it get to his head, managing most of the time. He could admit, though, that he hadn’t liked the defiant gaze Harry had looked at him with, while telling Zayn that he wouldn’t have given him his number just for Zayn to booty-call him if he felt like it.

Zayn was spared any reply to Louis’s statement by Harry himself. He’d left Kyle to keep playing with their sand castle and had given Louis and Zayn a glance, and he was now coming towards them, in his stupid knee-long shorts and nothing else. He had a lot of poorly-thought tattoos, but Zayn had spent half of his time on the island carefully avoiding looking at any of them, as well as avoiding looking at Harry’s bare chest in general.

“Um, hey” Harry said when he reached them under the tree “How’s your hand, Lou?”

Louis smiled up at Harry, wiggling his fingers in the air. “Peachy. It was nothing, Haz, I told you”

“Grant dropped wood on your hand” Harry retorted, frowning at Louis and studiously avoiding even glancing in Zayn’s direction.

Louis sighed. “You worry too much, my beloved Hazza. My incredibly talented fingers are fine. Ask Liam” he grinned.

Harry went a pretty shade of red as Zayn snorted and scolded himself for the slight jealousy he felt at the fact Louis and Harry seemed to be so close already. Louis was _his_ friend, he thought, and immediately felt like a ten-year-old. Besides, he was fairly sure that the jealousy stemmed from Louis calling Harry ‘my beloved’, and it wasn’t because Zayn was jealous of _Louis_.

Harry finally faced Zayn after he snorted his laugh, and his cheeks were still red as he stammered a little bit before clearing his throat. “Hi, Zayn”

“Hello, Harry” he said as politely as he could.

Harry rummaged through his pockets. “I… I made these” he said, handing Zayn some kind of small square tin “It’s rolling paper. Grant tried them, he says they’re ‘smokable’. And I guess you’re almost running out?”

Zayn accepted the tin, probably gaping a little, and he opened it, only to find a stack of very thin, rectangular papers, which really looked like rolling paper, only much darker than normal.

“You _made_ these?” he asked, astonished.

Harry nodded and cleared his throat again. “From dried leaves. Took me a while to figure out which ones I could use. There’s this kind of plant, it’s like hemp, the leaves can be shredded until they become paper-thin. Luckily it’s not one of the poisonous ones. I know my shit around tropical plants”

“Wow” Zayn smiled, studying the thin leaves “I… thank you, Harry”

Harry smiled, only one dimple showing. “No problem. There’s fifty in them. If you run out, just tell me or Niall, and we’ll make more. Next step is gonna be harvesting smokable leaves, and then we’ll be a civilized society with vices again” he said with a nervous giggle.

Zayn laughed. “Cheers to vices, babe”

Harry’s face went suddenly even redder, and Louis rolled his eyes. “This is painful, really”

Zayn elbowed him in the ribs and smiled brightly at Harry, to mask how kind of overwhelmed he still felt about Harry being so thoughtful of Zayn even if he clearly didn’t really approve of smoking.

Harry snorted and then covered his mouth with both his hands, before composing himself and clearing his throat one more time. “I, um… I think I’m gonna go now. I promised the kids that I would come up with some new cool game for tonight”

“Aren’t you forgetting _something_ , Haz?” Louis said, enunciating his words very clearly and slowly.

Zayn frowned, and Harry laughed embarrassedly before shaking his hair, which gave him an excuse to lower his gaze and not look at him, Zayn reckoned.

“Yeah. Um. Zayn, you’re welcome to come to the bonfire tonight” Harry said, biting down on his bottom lip “I haven’t been inviting you ‘cause you never come. But anyone’s always invited anyway. So if you wanna come, you can”

Zayn was torn between finding Harry’s ramble endearing and realizing he was biting his bottom lip raw, which led Zayn into thoughts he had to suppress instantly if he didn’t want to get a boner right in front of him.

_How bad can it be to suck up my stupid ego for once?_

He smiled at Harry. “Okay, Harry. I’ll come”

Harry gaped. “Really?”

Zayn laughed. “Yeah, babe. Really. Tell me if you need any help with those games for the kids, yeah?”

Harry was still gaping as he nodded, and after a moment he recollected himself and smiled. “I’ll see you tonight, then. Don’t get sunburned. If you do, come to me. I have a shitton of aloe” he stated, and then fled the scene. Zayn looked at him prance towards Linda and Andrea, curls bouncing in the air as he reached the two women and started talking their ears off while they stared at him with fondly annoyed expressions on their faces.

“Have you finally realized that you have to actually work for that booty?” Louis asked after maybe ten seconds.

Zayn chuckled. “Nah. I just like it, when something finally fazes him”

“One and the same” Louis declared.

 

*

 

Zayn and Harry spent the rest of the morning eyeing each other and smiling every time their eyes met, which was apparently a source of great hilarity to Liam and Louis on Zayn’s side, and Niall on Harry’s.

Zayn, Liam and Louis were in charge of cooking communal lunch for the people who didn’t want to eat their own food by themselves, which usually meant about four or five people, plus most of the kids. The fishing had been great that morning, Zayn realized as he gutted four fairly big fish and impaled them on wooden sticks, handing them to Louis and Liam who set them over the fire to roast them.

“Ewww, Zayn, that’s _disgusting_!” one of the little girls, probably Lizzie, he couldn’t really remember the name, exclaimed.

Zayn grinned. “’S not disgusting when it fills your belly, is it?”

The girl, a scrawny thing with long blonde hair tied in an extremely fancy French braid, giggled. “It’s disgusting when you do _that_ ” she stated, playing with the thick braid cascading on her shoulder.

“I sincerely apologize, my queen” he chuckled “I forgot you were royalty, with your fancy hairdo and all”

The kid – Lizzie, Zayn decided, he was ninety-nine per cent sure – giggled again. “Harry did it for me!”

 _Of course_. “Did he?”

Lizzie hummed affirmatively. “He says he always braids his sister’s hair. Her name’s Gemma and she’s very beautiful”

Zayn felt a small pang of sadness for the family Harry had lost when they’d crashed on the island, and for the family he himself had lost as well. He thought about his parents and his sisters, who had probably already been told to give up ever finding Zayn dead or alive. He knew they’d never give up, and the thought that they might never know what happened to him sliced like a knife through his chest.

“I’m sure she is beautiful if she’s Harry’s sister” Zayn offered, gutting another fish.

Lizzie sighed dreamily. “Of course. Harry’s very beautiful too” she agreed “Do you miss your mum, Zayn?”

Zayn gulped down some air. “I do, sweetie” he said, not asking her the same question, because Lizzie was one of the orphan kids. He wondered how hard Harry had worked on those kids, to make them be cheerful and careless again such a short time after watching their parents die in the crash.

“I miss my parents” Lizzie said, pensively, a frown on her small face “But Harry helps”

“I’m sure he does” Zayn replied, smiling as brightly as he could until the little girl did the same.

When lunch was ready and set in the makeshift plates which Grant had carved in wood (he was probably a woodworker, honestly, because _everything_ he made with wood looked like straight out of a shop), Zayn realized Harry was not around, which was weird.

“Where’s Harry?” he asked Louis and Liam.

Kyle, the kid who had been playing with the sand earlier that morning, raised his hand. “I know!” he said.

Louis snorted. “Yes, Kyle, you’re allowed to speak. Honestly, kid, were you top of your class or something?”

Kyle frowned. “Yes, I was. How did you know?”

“I am a wizard” Louis told him, stage-whispering.

Zayn elbowed Louis. “He’s not, he’s just always telling jokes” he corrected before the kids started creating a ruckus about wanting to see magic tricks, because the only magic trick Louis had mastered was how to roll a perfect joint “Kyle? Where’s Harry?”

“He’s hiding behind the medical shelter” the kid revealed excitedly “He said that no one has to go looking for him because he’s making new games for tonight and it’s a surprise”

Zayn smiled, and took a decision before second-guessing himself. He put roasted fish in a plate, a decent amount for two people, and stood up.

“Zayn!” Lizzie said in a scolding tone “You _can’t_ go to Harry! He said _no one_ ”

Zayn sighed. “I know, but even if Harry’s making a surprise for us, he still has to eat, yeah? So I’m bringing him food”

“Can we come then?” Kyle asked.

Zayn averted his eyes before he could succumb to the power of those puppy green eyes and dark curls. Honestly, the kid looked too much like Harry himself. “Nope. That would spoil the surprise, and Harry would get mad, and we don’t want him to, do we?”

“Harry never gets mad” Lizzie mused.

 _Don’t I know it._ “I know, I know, but we can’t risk it. Harry is so kind taking care of all of us, so we have to be sure he won’t ever get mad” he said patiently, pointedly avoiding any knowing grin that Louis and Liam were sending him from behind the kids’ shoulders.

The children seemed to agree with Zayn on that, so they let him go without further questioning.

Zayn quickly walked through the various shelters until he reached the biggest one, which had been destined to Cowell and his profession. Cowell was sitting by a table outside, going over some papers with a frown, probably the inventory for all the meds. He nodded at Zayn in greeting, and Zayn nodded back, circling the shelter.

Harry was indeed there, under the shade of some tree, struggling with a small knife and wood.

“Ah, fucking hell” Zayn heard him mutter.

“Harry?”

Harry jolted, luckily managing not to cut off any finger, and brought a hand to his chest. “Jesus Christ, Zayn, you scared the shit out of me”

Zayn grinned. “Sorry, babe. I brought you lunch since you don’t seem intentioned to leave your hiding spot anytime soon”

Harry chuckled, and showed Zayn the wood as Zayn carefully sat down and propped the plate with the fish on the blanket Harry was sitting on. “I’m trying to make a Jenga set. They will lose their fucking minds” he grinned.

Zayn snorted. “Why didn’t you ask Grant?”

Harry shrugged. “Grant has more important things to do. And I take care of the kids, which means I take care of the games”

“Eat first though, yeah?”

Harry nodded and put away his knife and wood. Zayn slid the plate closer to them, and he watched Harry take a piece with his long fingers, putting the bite in his mouth and humming. “’S good. You make it?”

“Liam and Louis. I gutted it” Zayn chuckled, taking a bite for himself “Your kid Lizzie said it was disgusting”

“My little princess” Harry just commented.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Harry nodded.

“Why did you take it upon yourself to take care of the kids?”

Harry chewed on his fish before replying. “I… my parents got divorced when I was a kid” he said quietly “And I know I can’t compare the two, but still… I had my mum, but I didn’t have my father next to me for the most important years of my life. I felt the loss every day. Most of these kids have lost both their parents in a much more _permanent_ way, Zayn. And the others have lost at least one, and the other parent could really use the help. So I try to provide it”

Zayn was a bit shocked by so much kindness. “That’s very noble of you”

Harry shrugged. “I’m good with kids. I’m a primary school teacher. Lots of people here are using their own abilities to help. I’m just doing my part”

Zayn smiled, and Harry stared at him with his mouth slightly agape. “What?” Zayn chuckled.

Harry shook his head, a faint blush clearly visible on his cheeks. “Nothing, it’s just… I spent years looking at you smile like this in interviews and concerts. It feels slightly intimidating now that you’re doing it, like, in the flesh, to me”

Zayn laughed. “So you really were a fan?”

“Still am” Harry said sheepishly “I mean, I can’t listen to music anymore, which I dearly miss, but I still know all your lyrics by heart. If you’d come to our bonfires, you’d have even listened to my pitiful attempts at covering your songs”

Zayn found his heart was beating slightly quicker at that confession. “I miss singing” he offered, sincerely.

Harry nodded. “I can imagine. You could ask Niall to lend you his guitar. So you could sing again. I bet it’s nothing compared to performing at the O2, but it’s still something”

Zayn laughed. “Babe, if there’s one thing I don’t miss from the civilized world, it’s my stage fright”

Harry gaped. “Stage fright?”

“Yep” Zayn confirmed with a chuckle “Used to be super bad, some years ago. I would get proper panic attacks and shit. Now it’s better, but it’s still there. I still prefer being with my guitar and just a few people listening”

Harry smiled, his eyes concentrated on the now empty plate. “I get it, I guess. Is it stage fright if you’re a teacher and you get nervous when you get new students?”

Zayn laughed. “I guess it can be, yeah?”

Harry laughed too, both his dimples digging deep in his cheeks. “Help me with Jenga?”

“Only if we do a one-on-one when we’re done” Zayn said, and realized it was a really poorly thought sentence only when he saw how red Harry’s face had gone.

They both started laughing, mostly to will the embarrassment away, and Zayn thought that maybe that was what normal people felt, when they were just slightly flirting with a man they didn’t know. Not that Zayn wasn’t a normal person, but fame had taken every chance of a normal relationship away from him, so it wasn’t like Zayn had ever experienced anything except high-profile dating (mostly fake) and quick fucks with nameless people when he felt that kind of need.

“I’m sorry. For implying that I would booty-call you if I had the chance” he said, honestly, and hoping Harry wouldn’t tell him to go fuck himself.

Harry just smiled, looking at the small piece of wood he was smoothing. “It’s fine. I kinda overreacted. I just don’t like being objectified, I guess”

 _Ouch._ “I was a dick, assuming you would give me your number and shit” Zayn nodded.

Harry chuckled. “It’s fine” he said again “After all, I didn’t really say I wouldn’t give you my number. I said I wouldn’t give it to you _in that case_ ”

Something akin to hope fluttered in Zayn’s stomach, and he hid it by grinning. “Does it mean you would have given me the number if I didn’t just use it to booty-call you?”

Harry chuckled again, and he retrieved a marker he had next to him. Before Zayn could even think, Harry grabbed his hand and wrote a row of numbers on his arm, right over his tattoos.

“Now you have my number” he said innocently.

Zayn snorted. “I can’t use it now, Harry”

Harry shrugged. “Then I guess you’ll just have to come knocking on my steel fake door”

 

*

 

“Honestly, Zayn, you are ridiculous” Louis commented while Zayn slid his jeans on.

“Just ‘cause we’re on a deserted island doesn’t mean I have to look like Robinson Crusoe all the fucking time, Lou” Zayn said patiently, tying his hair in a topknot and wishing he had a mirror. He didn’t say it out loud though.

“So this has _nothing_ to do with the sickeningly sweet turn your relationship to Goldilocks has taken, right?”

“Not at all” Zayn blatantly lied, shoving his head through his ACDC t-shirt with the sleeves held up by safety-pins.

“You’re a shit liar” Liam offered.

Zayn rolled his eyes. “And you two are shit at minding your own business” he retorted “Now, let’s go? I’m hungry and Harry said he somehow made booze from who knows what plants”

“It’s incredible, how our beloved Hazza has gone above and beyond for this particular bonfire after you told him you’d come” Louis stated.

Zayn laughed and shoved at his shoulder as they got out of their hut and towards the lights of the fire in the ‘main square’.

The main square was just a fairly large patch of sand, made circular by all the huts surrounding it, which had given Harry the chance to turn it into a place of gathering during mornings and nights, a place where they could just spend time together and chat a little, or eat communal lunch and dinner.

No, Zayn didn’t really hate Harry. Harry was fucking brilliant.

As they reached the already lit bonfire, Zayn immediately spotted Harry sitting on trunks around the fire with Niall and most of the kids. All of them had bowls of some kind of soup in their hands, and Harry was saying something Zayn couldn’t hear, but it was of course extremely funny for the kids.

He didn’t want to be the one running to Harry as soon as he arrived, so he nodded a greeting and stopped to say hi to Linda and Andrea, who were sitting and talking while eating dried fish. Linda and Andrea were cool, and all of them would have probably already been dead if it wasn’t for them, Zayn thought as he sat down on the sand next to them. After they’d crashed on the island, some people had built fishing rods first thing. But once the food had been fished, they’d realized none of them knew how to cook it properly. Linda and Andrea had scoffed and taught everyone how simple it was to roast a fish.

Linda, dark-skinned and in her forties although she looked barely in her thirties, smiled at Zayn. “Hey, kid. Fancy seeing you here”

Zayn laughed. “Yeah, I guessed it couldn’t hurt”

Linda looked at him with a knowing grin – why was everyone looking like _that_ at Zayn today? “I see” she replied. Her kid, ten-year-old Megan with the same dark skin as her mother and even crazier curls, came running towards them and handed her mother a bowl of soup. “Mama! Harry made soup, look, it’s orange but it’s not carrots!”

Linda laughed. “Did you say thank you to Harry for always making soup for everyone?”

Megan nodded. “I did. He’s so cool, Harry, isn’t he?”

Andrea, the other woman, laughed. “Twenty-one people on this island, and twenty-one crushes on that boy” she commented, and Zayn kept smiling, pointedly ignoring the wink she sent in his direction.

Megan frowned. “Not everybody likes Harry though” she said with an angry scowl “Robert and Jason never talk to him. And they never let Andrew and Tyler come play with us unless Harry begs them”

Linda sighed. “Be nice, love” she told her daughter “Not every parent is okay with letting their kids out of their sight to play with a stranger, after all, yeah?”

Megan shrugged. “But Harry’s not a stranger. He built Jenga for us. And he makes soup!”

 _If only kids could rule the world_ , Zayn thought to himself. He’d noticed it as well, though. Robert and Jason, fathers to respectively nine-year-old Andrew and twelve-year-old Tyler, mostly tended to themselves and kept their kids close, although sometimes Harry managed to have them allow the children to join the others for lunch or some games.

Zayn couldn’t really blame them, though. Every survived parent had lost their spouse, or their kids, or even both, in the crash, so it was understandable those two weren’t inclined to let the only extant member of their family out of their sight.

Christabel, Andrea’s daughter, also came running to them, her black hair tied in an askew bun. “Mommy! Harry’s about to sing! Come!”

“Let’s do your hair so you don’t look like a wild animal first, right?” Andrea said with a snort, and Christabel huffed impatiently but let her mother redo her bun, tapping her foot on the sand.

The women stood up to follow the little girls to the bonfire, and Zayn did the same, figuring it was safe to join Harry now. Not that it hadn’t been safe before. But whatever.

Zayn noticed all the kids were there now, even Andrew and Tyler, although their fathers were nowhere to be seen. Niall was mindlessly strumming his guitar. Zayn’s finger itched to play.

“Harry! Can we have candy now?” Lizzie exclaimed.

Harry playfully rolled his eyes. “Finish your soup first, doll” he said sternly.

Lizzie huffed, but diligently turned her attention on the bowl of soup. Harry raised his eyes, and his gaze met Zayn’s. They both smiled.

“Hi. I’m glad you came” Harry said, dimples showing.

 _Ah, fuck me_. “Glad I did” Zayn replied. He vaguely heard Andrea and Linda giggle to each other, and ignored them.

Harry filled a bowl with his orange-coloured soup and handed it to Zayn, who used the occasion to sit next to him on the trunk. Zayn smelled the soup and hummed. “Smells delicious, babe. You make it?”

Harry blushed, and it was clear even in the darkness only lit by the fire in the middle of their circle. “Yeah. It’s, um, boniato. Sweet potato. And yuca root” he said, a bit sheepishly “I also made candy. It’s not real candy though. It’s just dried guinep. It’s like lychee, only sweeter”

Zayn chuckled. “You really know your sh… thing, around tropical plants, yeah?” he commented, managing to correct the swearword for the sake of the kids around them.

Harry chuckled. “Yeah. Been planning a vacation to the Tropics for a long time, I guess” he said, but his tone felt sadder than it should have been.

Zayn nudged Harry’s shoulder with his own. “I was told there was gonna be singing?” he tried.

Harry went even redder, if possible, and all the kids started clapping and chanting his name, their soup bowls now empty and neatly stacked on top of one another in a pile. Harry was really training those kids, Zayn thought with a chuckle.

Niall kicked Harry in the ankle, and Harry stuttered a little bit when he realized Louis and Liam had also joined the circle with doctor Cowell, Grant, and James. James had been a taxi driver before the crash, but he had always had a passion for fishing, which had been a blessing when he’d taught everyone how to fish on the island. Zayn guessed James could have minded his own business and let them all die, but there had been no questioning for him. On day three he’d woken up, pulled everyone else out of their shitty fake beds, and dragged them to the shore to teach them all.

“I didn’t think having worldwide famous singers as an audience would be so intimidating” Harry muttered.

Linda barked a laugh. “Well, kid, they can be famous all they want, it don’t matter shit here”

“Very true, my lady” Liam chuckled “Go on, Haz. It’s cool”

Zayn nodded encouragingly at Harry when their eyes met again, and Harry sighed and nodded. “Let’s do _You got what I like_?” he asked Niall.

Niall nodded, and the kids cheered. “Yes! We love that! Go Harry!” Lizzie screamed.

Harry chuckled fondly in her direction while Niall started plucking his guitar. Zayn’s fingers itched again. Maybe he’d really ask Niall to lend him the guitar, eventually.

_Your smile can make the darkness turn to light_

_Your eyes make gold and silver not so bright_

_Your hair’s as soft as a summer night_

_You’ve got what I like_

Zayn could feel the deep drawl of Harry’s voice right in his fucking sternum. They were sitting very close on the trunk, and Harry’s warm arm was completely moulded to Zayn’s. Zayn wondered if his body always ran that hot, or if it could be even hotter. He shook his head to redirect his thoughts into safer territory.

_You say the things I always want you to_

_You walk just like an angel out of the blue_

_and when you hold me, my life starts anew_

_You’ve got what I like_

And _Jesus_ , did Harry really have to turn his head and steal glances at Zayn while he sung? Zayn felt grateful that he’d been ridiculous and chosen to wear his skinny jeans, because they were helping him hide the semi Harry’s voice alone was causing him.

Louis grinned in Zayn’s direction, winking at him, and Zayn flipped him off, careful to hide his finger from the kids’ sight.

Zayn concentrated on Harry and his absurdly green eyes for the rest of the song, and then joined the kids in a loud clap, while Harry smiled and looked at the ground. Zayn desperately wanted to know if Harry would be so sheepish while riding Zayn’s dick.

 _Behave, Zayn, fucking hell_ , he scolded himself. “That was so good, Harry” Zayn said “Better than the rest of us famous singers”

“Of _course_ ” Hollie – one of the three kids Harry had taken under his wing, with big dark eyes and olive skin – declared with an eyeroll that made her look so much older than her nine years “Harry’s the _best_ singer in the _world_ ” she enounced slowly, like Zayn was a bit daft and wouldn’t understand otherwise.

Everybody laughed, and Harry shook his loose hair, flipping them backwards with his big hand. “Do you wanna sing?” he asked Zayn.

Zayn wanted to. But Harry’s tone was so quiet and tentative, probably because he was thinking about the conversation they’d had about Zayn’s stage fright, that Zayn had to take a moment just to appreciate Harry’s thoughtfulness all over again.

“Only if you want to!” Harry amended, raising his hands “It’s cool if you don’t feel like it, I just…”

“Yeah” Zayn chuckled “Yeah, I can sing something if Niall lends me his guitar”

Niall quickly handed over the guitar. “Treat her like the eighth child on this island” he said dramatically. The kids, and the adults as well, laughed.

“Don’t you worry, my friend. I’m only rough with people, not with instruments” Zayn answered while staring at Harry, because he couldn’t fucking help it.

Harry shivered, licking his pink lips.

“Jesus Christ, there’s kids here” Zayn heard Louis’s voice, followed by more laughter and some of the kids asking what he meant.

“Nothing, nothing” Harry quickly told the kids, glaring at Louis “Louis is just telling jokes”

“I never understand Louis’s jokes” Kyle pouted.

“That’s ‘cause they’re never funny” Zayn said, smiling innocently.

“Ah, this is getting better than any reality show” Linda commented.

James laughed. “We should have bets about when they’ll finally give it to each other”

“James!” Harry squealed, scanning the kids’ faces to make sure none of them had understood.

Zayn lowered his face over the guitar and didn’t reply, because he was starting to feel his own cheeks get warmer. _What’s even happening to me? I don’t fucking_ blush _._

“What’s your favourite song of mine?” he asked Harry, because if he was finally able to sing, he might as well make it _good_.

Harry stuttered. “Um. _Good Years_ ” he said at last.

“Gotcha, babe” Zayn smiled, and started playing while Harry finally distributed the promised candy to the kids.

_I’d rather be anywhere_

_Anywhere but here_

_I’d rather be anywhere_

_Anywhere but here_

_I close my eyes and see a crowd of a thousand tears_

_I pray to God I didn’t waste all my good years_

_All my good years_

_All my good years_

Zayn blessed Niall for his guitar, because there were very few things Zayn loved more than the feeling of the chords under his fingertips, or the soothing weight of the instrument on his thighs and against his stomach. He dared look at Harry a couple of times while he kept the song going, and every time he found him staring back at him, his mouth slightly agape and his eyes a bit watery.

_Need a chance just to breathe, feel alive_

_And when the day meets the night, show me the light_

_Feel the wind and the fire, hold the pain deep inside_

_It’s in my eyes_

_In my eyes_

Harry was mouthing the words along with him, without emitting a sound. Zayn nudged him with his foot, nodding, and for the last chorus Harry joined him, harmonizing with him, even, and the song was soon over.

Everybody clapped again for them, and Zayn smiled more at Harry. “If I’d known you some years ago, you could have been part of One Direction” he said.

Harry snorted. “I dunno, maybe you wouldn’t have become that famous if I was in the band”

Niall laughed. “With your curls and dimples and my own beautiful, raspy voice? We could have been _double_ that famous”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Nobody invited you in the band, Niall”

“Tough luck, my friends” Niall sighed “One Direction should have been a five piece, I’m telling you”

“It would have been more fun with the interviews I’m sure” Louis offered “I think Zayn contributed what, five words in five years?”

Zayn tried to kick Louis, but he was too far.

“I think it was enough anyway” Harry said slowly, his eyes still fixated on Zayn.

Zayn was about to go fucking mental with all the things he wanted to do to Harry Styles.

“Lovely and angsty” Andrea commented “Okay. C’mon, kids. Time for bed”

The kids protested, but in the end followed the rest of the adults saying goodnight. Harry stood up, probably to go put Lizzie, Kyle and Hollie to bed as well, but Niall patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll get the kids to bed. You start preparing the booze” he whispered.

Harry snorted. “You are a shit example for them, Niall”

Niall shrugged. “You’re the one who fucking _made_ the booze, so shut up” he said with a laugh, and ushered the three orphan kids back to his and Harry’s shelter as soon as Harry was done braiding Lizzie’s blonde hair in a braid for the night.

It was suddenly quiet after everyone else was gone, leaving Harry and Zayn by the fire. Zayn watched in silence as Harry rekindled the bonfire to make it last some more, since it was the only source of light they had in the dark night.

“Help me with the booze?” Harry asked him when he was done.

Zayn nodded with a chuckle, and stood up to follow Harry to a precarious-looking table, made with thick wooden branches and a steel square piece. On top of it, two buckets and a stack of plastic glasses from the plane were propped.

“How the _fuck_ did you make booze?” Zayn hissed, astonished.

Harry grinned. “Sorrel petals” he pointed to the first bucket “And noni” he gestured to the second container “I fermented them. It works like this. Three quarters noni, one quarter sorrel. You put them in the glass, then seal it with this wooden lid, and then you shake it real hard. And then it’s done” Harry explained, showing Zayn the process with a first glass, which he then handed to Zayn.

Zayn took a sip. It was just the right amount of bittersweet, and yes, it tasted definitely like booze. He gaped, and Harry chuckled and shrugged. “Took a little bit of time to figure out the quantities. Luckily for us, Paul is a bartender. Almost lost his shit when I told him he could finally put his own ability to good use”

Zayn laughed, and they both started making the first few drinks. “You’re a good leader” Zayn told Harry during the mixing of the drinks.

Harry sighed. “I’m not a leader, Zayn. Everybody does what they want, I don’t, like, order people around and shit. I only make sure no one kills each other over a good batch of fish, ‘cause I’m fucking scared everything’s fine and dandy now, but once the food will start to be scarce, things are gonna go to shit” he said grimly “I know we’re all gonna die very soon if no one finds us. And… I’m not one of those you call Hopefuls. I think I’ve accepted nobody’s gonna find us. But at least I can try and make sure everybody’s safe as long as it’s still an option”

Zayn nodded. “Do you think they’re just being naïve? The Hopefuls?”

“Zayn. What’s the thing all the Hopefuls have in common?” Harry asked gently.

Zayn didn’t really have an answer. Harry waited a couple seconds before answering his own question. “They’re parents, Zayn. They _have_ to be hopeful, because otherwise they’ll have to admit to themselves they’re gonna watch their kids die eventually. And I don’t think that’s something _any_ parent would resign themselves to”

Zayn had never thought about that. He realized that was probably Harry’s best quality. Putting things into perspective. Zayn had deemed Harry stupid many times, when he’d found him spending the night carving dead people’s names into tombstones, or when he’d almost gotten himself killed falling off a tree because the fruits were purple and they were gonna amuse the kids. But were they really stupid things? Was it stupid to want to preserve kids’ laughter, or wanting to still honour the dead, when they had _nothing else_? Zayn was starting to think it really wasn’t.

“Do you think your parents and sisters have given up on you?” Harry asked after a moment.

Zayn was about to ask Harry how he knew he had sisters, but then he just smiled dumbly, because Harry was still his fan, so of course he knew. “No” Zayn replied honestly “I don’t think they’ll ever give up, babe. Not if they don’t find my fucking body”

Harry nodded. “My family too. It kills me, sometimes, you know? That they’re in our house, not knowing what happened. That maybe people are calling my mother stupid for not accepting I’m dead because they didn’t find any bodies. Or that maybe my sister postponed her wedding because she’s still not ready to accept that I’m not gonna be there”

Zayn sighed. “Was she gonna get married soon?”

Harry nodded. “Four days ago. I really hope she decided to have the wedding anyway. But I know Gemma. She probably didn’t” he said, defeatedly.

“Well, babe, let’s assume she did. And we can toast to her long, happy marriage tonight” Zayn decided, lifting his plastic glass. Harry smiled and nodded, clinking his own glass against Zayn’s.

Niall, Louis and Liam were the first to show up again, shortly followed by Paul, James, Grant, Cowell, Andrea, Linda and even Jolene, with her edgy dark clothes and flaming red hair glinting in the fire lights.

When the girl made her way to the table, Harry glared at her. “You’re too young to drink, babe” he told her.

Jolene rolled her eyes. “I’m eighteen, Harry, and legal age doesn’t mean anything on this island anyway”

“If I let you all have your way, _nothing_ would mean anything here”

Zayn snorted. “Oh, c’mon, Haz, let the miss have her drink. You wanna tell me you _never_ drank before you were twenty-one?”

Harry stuttered while Jolene laughed and suddenly hugged Zayn. “You’re officially my new best friend, Zayn”

Harry grumbled something unintelligible, but gave up and handed Jolene a cup. She giggled and toasted her drink in their direction. “This is how you repay me for every time you sing _Jolene_ when I show up at the bonfires” she told Harry with a wink, and then lightly pranced over to Linda and Andrea, sitting on the sand with them.

“Ah, I wish we had weed” Louis commented with a longing sigh.

Paul laughed. “Give a little bit more time to our young boy-scout here, he’ll probably find some hallucinogenic plant sooner or later” he said, pointing to Harry.

“I will do _no_ such thing, cheers, Paul” Harry declared “And if you all don’t stop harassing me, I won’t even look for _normal_ smokable plants”

“Aw, babe, c’mon, don’t be cross” Zayn cooed, nudging him with his elbow.

They were all fairly surprised when Robert and Jason showed up as well.

“Hi!” Harry exclaimed loudly, partly because he was already slightly tipsy, and partly just because he was genuinely happy to see them “You came!”

Robert and Jason smiled a little. “Yeah, we decided we miss booze” Robert said “Thank you, you know. For… everything, I guess. My kid is very happy lately”

Harry positively beamed. “My pleasure” he said, handing them both a drink.

It wasn’t even a proper party, but it kinda felt like one, Zayn thought as he took a look around to all the people chatting around the fire. If he stopped thinking hard enough, he could even pretend it was a normal bonfire night on some American beach. Louis and Liam were laughing with Niall, the girls were giggling and whispering, and Harry. Well, Harry.

Harry was hands-down one of the most beautiful blokes Zayn had ever seen, and Zayn had seen him at his worst already, shocked and hurt and holding someone’s hand as they died shortly after the crash. He was okay now, with jeans and one of his colourful shirts, loose curls brushing his shoulders and a glint in his eyes from alcohol and his always underlying calm happiness.

“Do you wanna take a walk?” Zayn asked him before he could second-guess himself.

Harry smiled and nodded. They left their empty glasses on the table and slowly made their way, their feet digging through the sand until they reached the shore, where the ground was more solid.

It was dark, so dark, but the moon was big and shining, so Zayn could make out Harry’s lean profile even in the night.

“Wait, let’s…” Harry almost whispered, and then grabbed Zayn by one arm so that they could switch positions. Harry was now walking between Zayn and the ocean.

Zayn sent him a questioning glance, but Harry just shrugged. “You’re scared of open waters” he said.

“I’m not _scared_ ” Zayn corrected.

Harry snorted a little. “You threw a strop on day four when James dragged us all to the sea to teach us how to fish”

“That was just because I was taken by surprise”

“Sure” Harry laughed, dragging the ‘u’. Zayn chuckled and shouldered him, laughing harder when Harry squealed and almost fell face-first in the wet sand.

“Do you think I’m stupid? For… actually enjoying how things are going here?” Harry asked in a quiet tone after a while.

Zayn shook his head. “No” he said, earnestly “I… I used to think so. But Harry, you’ve done so much for everyone here. You take care of the orphan kids, you even help the parents with their own children. When we crashed here, I saw you barely making it out of the plane yourself, only to run back in, not even bothering about your own safety, when Lizzie screamed for help. You know every fucking plant on the island, tell us what we can eat and what we have to stay clear of. You _do_ something, and that can’t be stupid”

Harry hummed. “You and the lads do a lot as well”

Zayn opened his mouth to protest that really, he didn’t do shit mostly, but Harry vigorously shook his head. “You always cook the communal lunch. You helped with building the shelters. And you made the first step to hand over the medicines to Cowell. I noticed that, Zayn. I notice everything”

Zayn smiled. “Wasn’t that hard, to be honest. If I ever get hurt or sick, I’d like Cowell to have the meds to save my arse”

Harry laughed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right”

“You think we’ll make it? Even if no one ever finds us?” Zayn asked, surprised at the clear hope he was hearing in his own voice.

Harry sighed a smile. “I think we’re all very strong people. Kids included. So I won’t say for sure that we will. But maybe we could make it, yeah”

They both stopped walking. The lights of the fire were a mere small dot in the distance, and the moon made everything silver. The rippling waves, the tree next to which they were stood, and Harry’s eyes.

“Can I kiss you, Zayn?” Harry asked in a whisper “I really wanna kiss you, have been wanting to since we were still on the fucking plane”

Zayn chuckled, and didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed a fistful of Harry’s shirt and pulled him closer, knocking their lips together with a movement that startled Harry, making him squeal and laugh on Zayn’s mouth.

“That’s a shit kiss, babe” Zayn commented with a grin.

Harry grinned right back, and cupped Zayn’s face with both his hands, bringing their lips closer more gently. It felt like they’d always been kissing, if Zayn could be honest. Harry’s lips felt so normal, so perfect against his, that he just enjoyed the press of them for a while, without doing anything else.

Then Harry’s hands slid down to Zayn’s waist, and Harry parted his lips with a sigh, like a question, like an invitation. Zayn took it, and slowly, very slowly, slipped his tongue into Harry’s mouth, eliciting a deep sigh from him.

“I thought you hated me” Harry whispered against Zayn’s mouth.

Zayn chuckled. “I tried. And failed” he confessed.

Harry laughed, and they kept kissing while none of them moved to do anything else. Zayn didn’t want Harry to feel like a booty-call, even if no real call had been involved, because it had taken Zayn just a day to understand Harry was so much more.

Harry took the matter into his own hands, though, and backed Zayn against the trunk of the tree. It knocked the wind out of Zayn. “Sorry, sorry” Harry muttered, his lips leaving Zayn’s mouth to travel down his jaw and to his neck.

“’S no problem, babe” Zayn groaned, feeling the flat of Harry’s tongue lave at his jugular. Harry sucked a little bit on the same spot, and then stopped, his eyes suddenly searching Zayn’s.

Zayn huffed a laugh. “Leave all the marks you want, babe, it’s not like I have to worry about the cameras here”

Harry grinned. “Cool” he said, and then his teeth were grazing the side of Zayn’s neck, biting into it just in the right side of pain.

Zayn hissed a shamelessly aroused groan, and he felt Harry smirk in his neck, while at the same time his hands grabbed the hem of Zayn’s t-shirt. Zayn raised his hands to allow Harry to get rid of it, and then drove his fingers through Harry’s only two closed buttons. “Very easy to remove” he remarked, sliding the shirt off his shoulders.

His tattoos were a blur of ink under the moon, but Zayn managed to make out two swallows under his collarbones, a moth or a butterfly on his stomach, and laurel leaves on his hips.

Harry chuckled. “I had a feeling about where this night was gonna end, if I can be honest”

“Bit pretentious, ain’t you” Zayn grinned, without really meaning it. If he could be honest, he knew where he was gonna end with Harry Styles since they boarded the fucking plane.

Harry didn’t give him time to react before he dropped on his knees and fumbled with Zayn’s jeans to open them.

“Fuck” Zayn breathed “Harry, if you don’t…”

Harry raised his head to smirk at Zayn, blinking his eyes, now silver in the moonlight. “If I don’t want? Zayn, I think I’ve never even dared _dream_ this could happen to me” he chuckled “Or nope, it’s a lie. ‘Cause I jerked off to this one too many times, I think”

Zayn laughed. Hard. It wasn’t even that funny, and he had his half-hard dick out, face-level with Harry, but he laughed anyway.

Harry giggled a little, and then swallowed Zayn whole the next second.

“Fuck” Zayn panted, his hands instinctively going for Harry’s hair while a longer string of curses left his mouth.

Harry barely bobbed his head up and down twice, before Zayn was so hard it hurt. Harry swirled his tongue around the tip and then sunk lower for a while. Then he grabbed Zayn’s hands in his own hair, and squeezed them, another mute invitation in his eyes when he raised them to meet Zayn’s.

“You want me to fuck your mouth, babe?” Zayn asked, his voice all fucked up like he was the one giving head.

Harry nodded, causing his own head to slide up and down some more. “Fuck” Zayn muttered “Okay. Okay”

Harry smiled, and Zayn really didn’t know how he managed with a mouthful of cock, but he didn’t ask either. He just placed his hands on Harry’s head, and gave a tentative first thrust forward.

Harry gagged, and Zayn immediately stopped, afraid to have crossed a line quite literally.

But Harry shook his head, and his eyes were pleading _Do that again_.

Zayn drew in a shaky breath. “Just… Just poke me here or summat, if you want me to stop, yeah?” he managed to formulate, grabbing Harry’s hands and putting them on his own hips.

Harry nodded, his mouth sliding up and down again in the process.

“Shit” Zayn breathed, and thrust his hips into Harry’s mouth again.

Harry gagged again, but it seemed to be okay as Zayn kept going, kept thrusting, until he felt the back of Harry’s throat relax and he bottomed out inside his beautiful mouth, that mouth that could grin, smile, make him smile, make him get hard.

Harry took it all, and his eyes were watering, but Zayn could feel somehow that he was enjoying that as much as Zayn was. And God, was Zayn enjoying that.

Zayn was very close when Harry started moaning as well, each sound rumbling through his mouth and right up Zayn’s dick.

Zayn swore louder, and Harry chuckled, and that was it.

“Move” Zayn panted “Move, babe, I’m gonna come”

But Harry just shook his head, and Zayn came down his throat, and Harry kept sucking, kept swallowing, the walls of his mouth clenching around Zayn’s dick and just making him come harder.

Harry released him with a loud _pop_ and a grin still on that damn mouth as he wiped it with the back of his hand.

“Fuck” Zayn gasped, only then feeling like his lungs were starting to work properly again “You were supposed to be a shy one”

Harry shrugged. “Can’t be shy when presented with the occasion of letting someone like you fuck my mouth” he admitted bluntly.

Zayn chuckled, and slowly let his legs give up, falling on his knees, which brought him to Harry’s eye-level again. He grabbed Harry’s jaw and forcibly kissed him, chasing the taste of himself in Harry’s mouth.

The were lying down on the sand in the span of a moment, the rest of their clothes gone and placed underneath them as a blanket, because Harry had the presence of mind of worrying about the sand slipping into very uncomfortable places.

“What do you want, babe?” Zayn whispered, laying underneath Harry and not letting his mouth go long enough for Harry to actually answer.

Harry pulled his lips away from Zayn’s with a chuckle. “I want to ride you” he panted “Can I ride you?”

Zayn frantically nodded and pulled Harry for a kiss again, before realizing the problem at hand and gently stopping the kiss. “Harry, babe, I… I don’t think I have any condoms. With me or in my shelter”

Harry shrugged. “I’m clean. Got my results right before leaving. If you’re clean too, that’s fine. And if you don’t feel like doing it like this, that’s fine too” he said.

Zayn would have to be fucking mental to refuse, to be honest. “I’m clean too” he told Harry “I swear. It’s fine for me if it’s fine for you”

“Cool. Now stop talking” Harry breathed, dipping his head against Zayn’s to kiss him yet again.

Zayn watched Harry as he sat up on his lap, and rummaged for something into his jeans pockets, retrieving a small box.

Zayn frowned, and Harry grinned. “Aloe” he said, winking “I always have it ‘cause I’m very prone to burning my fucking fingers with the fire every time. You might be delighted to know that it also makes for excellent lube”

Zayn laughed, but the laughter died on his lips as he just watched mesmerized at Harry while he dripped the aloe extract on his fingers and brought his hand backwards, sighing a moan as he started working himself open.

And no, Zayn was not gonna sit still, so he sat up too, taking the box from Harry’s hands and coating his own fingers in it before swatting Harry’s hand away, and substituting Harry’s fingers with his own.

Harry was already open for two fingers, and Zayn watched him shiver and moan when Zayn added a third, scissoring them and curving them until he brushed Harry’s prostate.

Harry jolted, his fingers digging in Zayn’s shoulders as he sighed and started impaling himself on Zayn’s hand, with a debauched expression that made Zayn grow even harder.

“I’m ready, Zayn, please, can I…”

Zayn nodded. “Okay, babe. Okay” he conceded, settling his hands on Harry’s hips as he lined himself with Zayn’s dick and slowly started to sink on it, his head thrown backwards and his lips quivering as he uttered curses.

“You’re so fucking beautiful” Zayn murmured “I wish you could see yourself as I do”

It was cliché and stupid, and yet that was exactly how Zayn felt. Harry smiled brightly, dimples visible even in the darkness, and once Zayn was fully sheathed, Harry pushed at his chest and made him lay down again, slowly rocking his hips and making Zayn see stars.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” Harry hissed “So good, babe, you feel so fucking good”

Zayn could only nod again. “You too, you too, why did we wait this long”

Harry chuckled. “Because you were kind of an arsehole”

Zayn laughed, and Harry did too, but soon enough Zayn grabbed Harry’s hips harder, and started directing his thrusts, helping him ride him so fast and hard Zayn was scared one of them was gonna break soon.

They didn’t, though. Harry panted and sweated above him, his nails scratching Zayn’s chest with every thrust, and Zayn fucking loved it. He could feel heat start to boil in the pit of his stomach, and he sat up, moulding his chest to Harry’s. “Can you come like this, babe?” he asked him “Can you come just from riding me?”

Harry nodded. “I’m so close” he whimpered, kissing Zayn again for good measure.

Zayn slightly adjusted the angle, shifting Harry’s hips with his hands, and Harry gasped a shocked cry as he instantly came, eyes wide open and mouth slack, while strings and strings of hot come painted both their chests.

It was all Zayn needed as well, because Harry clenched almost painfully around him, and he was done for. “I’m gonna come, babe” he barely had time to say, and Harry nodded, and Zayn came inside him, hard, harder than he’d ever come.

The air was warm around them, so neither of them hinted that they should go back.

They fell asleep on their clothes, Harry running hot in Zayn’s arms and with his cheek on Zayn’s chest. Zayn had the best sleep he’d ever gotten on the island that night, and even in his dreams, he knew that it was thanks to Harry and his thoughtfulness and his warm presence by Zayn’s side.

 

*

 

Zayn didn’t wake up until he heard Harry’s anguished screams.

He jolted up, feeling the cool air of dawn gush around him, and without Harry by his side, the first thing he felt was cold. He blinked furiously, trying to get rid of the sleep still clogging his eyesight, and when he kept hearing Harry’s screams, he scrambled for his jeans, putting them on and running towards the shouting.

He tripped twice in the sand, his heart threatening to come out of his chest. Harry wasn’t stopping screaming, and as he ran along the shore, Zayn could make out Harry’s form, only in his jeans as well, kneeling in the sand, the waves washing up to him.

Zayn screamed for Harry as he ran towards him, but Harry didn’t turn to him. He saw other people, Louis and Liam and Niall among them, running to them from the opposite direction.

When Zayn got close enough, he realized what it was that was making Harry howl like a hurt, feral animal.

He was crouched on the seashore, and next to him was Lizzie.

She had her purple pyjamas on, and Zayn thought that her lifeless, blue-skinned body looked very small under Harry’s hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry I always end up making Harry suffer.  
> I'm probably not gonna be as quick as I usually am in updating, because thesis stuff has to come first, I'm afraid. But the fic is almost done anyway! Let me know what you're thinking :)


	3. Till the morning finds us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes they spoke. Most of the time they didn’t. Nothing else happened between them, except a handful of kisses, just a fleeting press of their lips when Harry needed to be reminded that they were still alive, or when Zayn needed to make sure Harry was still there, his lovely heart and soul as intact as they could be after what had happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Usual disclaimer: I don't know or own any of the characters present in this work. I only own the plot and the original characters.

 

 

 

_Twenty-one days earlier_

 

Zayn wakes up with sand in his mouth and deafening noises all around.

“Zayn!” he hears Louis scream his name “Zayn! Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Zayn feels his wrist throb, but he knows it’s not that bad. He blinks furiously to make his eyes adjust. There’s a lot of light. “I’m okay” he croaks, his voice coming out all wrong.

He hears Louis sigh, and he finally sees him, and Liam, kneeling beside him.

They’re on some kind of beach. People are screaming. Zayn sits up, his palms dig in the sand. “What…” he tries to ask, but his voice fails him again.

“The plane crashed” Louis tells him, still touching Zayn’s legs and arms to make sure he’s in one piece “A lot of people died. We’re on some fucking island in the middle of nowhere. You passed out, you weren’t waking up”

Zayn turns a little, and what he sees makes bile rise up his throat.

The plane is right next to them, destroyed. Half of it is completely crushed. There’s people running all around, screaming for each other. There are some bodies lined up by a row of trees, motionless, lifeless bodies of people who didn’t make it.

Zayn catches a glimpse of Harry, the guy with the curls, roaming around and asking things, helping people sit up, helping a man with bulky shoulders bandage a kid’s arm. “You’re gonna be fine, Kyle, you hear me?” Zayn hears him tell the kid, smiling. How can he smile?

“Zayn, if you’re okay, we need to help. There’s people still inside” Liam tells him.

Zayn’s head spins, and he feels like he can’t sit up straight anymore, but he nods.

Liam and Louis pat him on the shoulder, and leave him there, running into the corpse of the plane to help.

“Are you okay?”

It’s Harry. He kneels next to Zayn, his big hands running reassuringly up and down his forearms. Zayn nods. “Where are we?”

Harry shakes his head. His hair is tied in a bun, and he has a cut on his eyebrow, another on his cheek. “I don’t know, Zayn. The pilot and all the hostesses died” he says “It doesn’t matter where we are for now, okay? What matters is that you’re okay”

Zayn feels the absurd need to punch Harry in his calm, collected face. How can it not matter? How are they going to go back? Do phones even work on that island?

Zayn doesn’t answer, but he rummages his pocket for his phone. It’s there, completely crushed.

“Don’t bother” Harry tells him coolly “There’s no service anywhere here. We already tried”

Zayn grunts a frustrated sigh, and drops the useless phone in the sand. “How many…” he gulps down some air “How many…”

He can’t say it.

Harry understands anyway. “Louis and Liam just brought out the last people. Ninety-four dead” he says grimly “It’s a fucking mayhem. Fifteen are badly wounded, doctor Cowell there is doing the best he can” he points to the bulky man, and Zayn almost laughs hysterically. Well, at least a doctor survived. What’s he even gonna do without meds, without tools? This is not some kind of post-apocalyptic show. They’re all doomed, wounded or not.

“What…” Zayn doesn’t even know what he’s asking, but he doesn’t complete the question, because right that moment, a piercing scream slices the air.

“Mommy!”

It comes from inside the plane.

Harry is up and running less than a second later, throwing himself inside the crumbling plane remnants.

 _He’s gonna get himself killed_ , Zayn thinks, but he stands up, fighting against his spinning head, and runs after Harry. _If we’re doomed, might as well die doing something useful._

“Harry!” he shouts once he gets inside the plane.

Everything is torn apart. The walls of the vehicle are crumpled like paper, the head compartments are all broken, suitcases open and cluttering what remains of the floor. There’s a lot of blood, everywhere, spraying the ceiling and the walls, pooling on the floor. Zayn feels like throwing up at the heavy stench, but he focuses on putting one foot in front of the other and follows Harry along the aisle.

“Mommy! Mommy!” it’s a kid, and the whimper is heart-breaking.

“Sweetie?” Harry shouts “Keep talking to me so I can find you, okay?”

“Who are you?” it’s a girl, Zayn is fairly sure.

“I’m Harry” Harry replies “I’m here to get you out of here safe and sound, yeah? Keep talking. What’s your name? Are you hurt?”

The little girl cries. “No. My mommy was hurt. My name is Lizzie. I hit my head and I fainted. She’s not here”

Zayn grimaces. He’s pretty sure the little girl’s mother is dead, or there was no way she wouldn’t be already looking for her daughter. Harry turns around, looks at Zayn. He shakes his head.

Zayn sees something move. It’s a suitcase stuck between two seats still attached to the floor. “Lizzie? Are you trapped under the blue suitcase?” he calls out.

Lizzie cries harder. “Yes” she sobs “I can’t get out. Where’s my mommy? It’s not blue, it’s turquoise”

Zayn sighs a relieved smile. “My bad, sweetie. We’re coming to get you, okay?”

Harry trips twice in his haste to get to the suitcase, and pulls it out from between the seats with Zayn’s help. Once it’s finally out of the way, they find a little girl with long, blonde hair, blue eyes rimmed red with tears, and a pink dress on. She seems unharmed.

“Hey, Lizzie” Harry smiles, and Zayn kind of thanks God for him, because he’s not sure he would manage to ever smile again “Are you hurt? Can you move?”

Lizzie sniffles and slowly stands up. “My ankle hurts” she says.

Harry picks her up, runs his fingers around both her ankles. “It’s not broken. You’re gonna be fine, okay? I promise”

Lizzie nods, and wraps her hands around Harry’s neck. “Where’s my mommy?”

Harry looks at Zayn, but Zayn has no idea what to tell the little girl.

“Let’s get you out of here, okay?” Harry tells her “And then we can go somewhere and chat for a little while”

Lizzie seems to be satisfied with that answer for the moment, and she wraps herself tighter around Harry. She looks at Zayn. “Who are you?”

“I’m Zayn” he answers.

Lizzie widens her eyes. “Malik?”

Zayn thinks he’s about to break down, saving a little girl from a plane crash, and it turns out the little girl is his fucking fan. “Yes?” he says, like it’s a question.

Lizzie smiles. “My mom likes your songs. I don’t. You say bad words”

In the total absurdity of that conversation, Harry snorts. Zayn finds himself laughing harder than the situation requires. “I am very sorry my lyrics offended your sensibility, my queen” he tells the little girl.

Lizzie looks at Harry. “Why is he talking like this? Did he hit his head too?”

Harry barks a laugh and holds Lizzie tighter as they make their way out of the plane. “No, princess, I’m afraid that’s just how he is”

“Weird”

Zayn lets them talk shit about him, relieved that at least the little girl is fine. He doesn’t think he could have dealt with looking for her and be met with a small lifeless body. He wonders if Harry has seen other dead kids in the crash, he wonders if he’s really as okay as he lets on.

When they make it out of the plane, Zayn is attacked by a dishevelled Louis. “Where the _fuck_ were you? I leave you here for a second and you fucking disappear?”

Zayn grabs him by the shoulders. “Calm the fuck down. You were helping, I went to help too. There was a little girl trapped in the fucking plane. I went with Harry to save her”

“Zayn!” Lizzie calls him, still in Harry’s arms “Stop saying so many f-words!”

Louis laughs hysterically. Lizzie laughs too, even if she doesn’t probably get why. But they’re alive and well, for now, so Zayn can at least try to take comfort in that.

He watches Harry retreat next to a tree with Lizzie and two other kids. Zayn sees Harry sit them all down, then sitting in front of them. He can’t hear what he’s saying, but Zayn knows he’s telling them that they’re orphans now. He doesn’t envy Harry in the slightest, not when he sees the kids start to cry and Harry hug them with tears in his green eyes. Harry whispers something to all of them, and they keep crying, but they nod.

“His name’s Harry Styles” Louis tells Zayn, watching Harry as well “And I don’t think you would be alive without him”

Zayn frowns at Louis. “What?”

“I had my arm stuck under Liam who had lost consciousness” Louis says “There was a suitcase dropping down on your fucking head, and you were passed out, and I couldn’t do anything to save you. Harry saw it and threw himself on you so the suitcase hit him in the back, instead of hitting you in the head”

“Why would he do that?” Zayn mutters.

Louis shrugs. “That man is probably the most selfless motherfucker I’ve ever seen. Bare moments after the crash he was already checking on other people and helping them out of the plane. He and his friend Niall brought all three of us out with their own hands”

Zayn, Louis and Liam help people as well, as best as they can. Every once in a while, Zayn looks for Harry, and watches him take care of the kids, wondering when Harry Styles will finally realize they’re fucked and lose his apparently unbreakable cool.

 

\---

 

_Today_

Harry was shaking.

Zayn collapsed on his knees next to him, with his eyes glued to Lizzie’s little body, like if he looked at her hard enough she would just open her eyes and giggle, telling them it was just a joke.

But it wasn’t. Lizzie was dead, had been for hours, judging by the blue tint of her skin.

Harry was touching her everywhere, adjusting her pyjama t-shirt which had risen up exposing her stomach. “Lizzie Lizzie my princess what happened tell me tell me tell me” he was whispering, his green eyes shot open, no tears in it.

“Harry?” Zayn tried to call him, but Harry didn’t turn to him, didn’t probably even hear him.

Louis, Liam, Niall and Cowell were the first to reach them, and Niall gasped when he also realized what it was that had made Harry scream his lungs out.

Zayn looked at Louis. Louis had tears in his eyes, but he turned to Niall when he fell on his knees as well, whispering something to him. Zayn vaguely registered other people joining them, but he didn’t look at any of them. Harry needed him, Harry would never recover from that, Lizzie was his favourite, Harry had saved Lizzie from the plane with his own hands only to watch her little body now, blue from drowning.

“Cowell, someone has to get the body away from him, it’s already bloating” Zayn heard someone say, probably Paul.

Cowell nodded and slowly kneeled next to Harry. “Harry?” he said gently “Harry, let me take her to…”

“NO!” Harry screamed, taking Lizzie in his arms, one hand protectively cradling the back of her head “No, I’ll take her, don’t touch her, I’m the one who takes care of her”

“Okay, okay” Simon said carefully, raising his hands to show Harry he wouldn’t try to pry Lizzie away from his arms “But we have to take her back, Harry, get her out of the water. Give her a proper burial. You know”

Harry nodded, slowly, and even more slowly he stood up, carrying Lizzie like she weighed nothing. As Zayn watched Harry’s back while he made his way through the rest of the people, back to the shelters, he thought that Harry still wasn’t crying, and it couldn’t be good.

 

*

 

Zayn had stayed back with Louis and Liam to make sure Niall was at least remotely okay. They’d let him cry in their arms, because Harry might be the one in charge of the orphans, but Niall was too. Zayn thought that it was good, that Niall was crying, because his mother always said crying got things off your chest, and you can’t keep them all in for too long or you would explode.

Niall didn’t look as traumatised and motionless as Harry, and when he collected himself a little bit, the four of them also made their way back to their camp.

There was no sign of Harry or Lizzie’s body when they got there. “Where’s Harry?” Zayn asked Linda.

Linda gestured to the rainforest with her head. “Cemetery. He’s digging Lizzie’s grave”

“Kicked us all away” Paul offered “He said he’s the one who should do it”

“Who’s with the kids?” Zayn asked, because Harry was clearly in no condition to worry about the kids now, but somebody should.

“Andrea and Jolene” Linda answered “They’re trying to figure out a way to tell them. Harry would know how to do it. Harry always knows”

Zayn nodded. “I’m gonna check on him” he decided, grabbing a shovel “Don’t look for us. He’ll come back when he’s ready”

He nodded in Louis’s direction, and then walked through the trees until he reached the glade where they buried all the dead, the same glade where he’d seen Harry make tombstones the first night on the island.

Harry was there, dirt covering his face and chest and jeans, and Lizzie’s body was next to him, covered with a blanket. He was digging a hole in the ground using another one of the shovels Grant had built.

“Harry?” Zayn said carefully.

Harry raised his head. “Go away. I’m the one who needs to do it”

Zayn nodded. “I know, babe, I know. I just wanna help you”

“Don’t” Harry said coldly “I don’t need the help. I don’t deserve it”

“ _Deserve_ it?” Zayn frowned, taking some tentative steps towards him.

“Yes!” Harry screamed “ _Deserve_ it! She needed me, Zayn, and she was drowning, while I…” he looked at Zayn, gestured to both of them, and then his eyes filled with tears as he lowered his gaze on the ground again.

“You couldn’t have known, Harry” Zayn replied, finally reaching him “This is not your fault, babe”

“Isn’t it?” Harry said, shoving angrily at the dirt “It is, Zayn. I promised her she would be safe. But I wasn’t there to protect her ‘cause I was too busy getting dick”

“Harry, you _never_ do anything for yourself!” Zayn hissed, trying not to scream, because he wanted to, wanted Harry to understand he couldn’t blame himself for Lizzie’s death only because for _one night_ he’d decided to be a normal twenty-four year-old and have fun. “Lizzie would have died anyway, even if you were there! Niall put her to bed, didn’t he? It means she wandered out when everybody was asleep. It’s _not_ your fault”

Harry chuckled, bitterly. “It wasn’t an accident, Zayn” he muttered.

Zayn frowned, but before he could reply his eyes landed on Harry’s hands, and he saw blood.

“Harry, are you hurt?” Zayn asked, worried, and tried to grab his hands to examine them. Harry let him, the shovel falling on the ground. There was dried blood on Harry’s hands, but Zayn couldn’t see any wound.

“It’s Lizzie’s” Harry said grimly, and then picked up the shovel again.

How could it be Lizzie’s blood if she had drowned? Zayn didn’t ask, because it was clear Harry didn’t feel like talking.

So he just picked up his own shovel. “Can I help you at least?”

Harry nodded. “Thanks” he said after a moment of silence, without looking at Zayn “You… you care”

“Of course I do, Harry” Zayn said, and felt his heart break. For little Lizzie, for Harry, for everyone on that island.

He thrust the shovel in the ground next to Harry, and dug.

 

*

 

Harry didn’t say another word to Zayn. Zayn let him be the one to lower Lizzie in the ground and cover her, and in the meantime he carved ‘Lizzie Olsen, our princess’ in a stone, handing it to Harry.

Harry looked at it, and his lips trembled, but he didn’t cry. He sent a weak smile in Zayn’s direction, which was still something, and set the stone on top of Lizzie’s mound without speaking.

When they went back to the camp, Harry went straight for his shelter and the kids. He asked Andrea and Jolene to please leave them alone, and Zayn let him go, his heart breaking all over again when he heard Kyle and Hollie cry, and Harry shush them, whispering things no one else could hear to them. It painfully reminded Zayn of the day of the crash, when he’d looked at Harry tell the three kids they were orphans now, and had hugged and whispered to them much in the same way.

He didn’t look for Harry after that, knowing that Harry didn’t want to leave the two kids, probably ever again.

It was Harry who came looking for him that night, after everyone had grimly said goodnight and retreated into their shelters.

Harry knocked at Louis, Zayn and Liam’s door with a rap of his knuckles. Niall was with them, and he stared at Harry when he opened the makeshift door and entered. “Haz?” he asked, his voice shaking.

Harry just smiled a little at him, and pulled Niall in a hug while Niall’s shoulders shook and he cried in Harry’s neck. “It’s okay, Ni, it wasn’t your fault. I know you think it was. But it wasn’t”

Niall did indeed blame himself, because Lizzie had wandered out of the shelter and he hadn’t woken up, but Zayn knew it wasn’t his fault either. The thing that made Zayn’s stomach churn was that Harry was telling Niall he wasn’t to blame only because he thought _he_ was the one at fault.

Harry let Niall go after a minute, and then looked at all of them. “Guys, I need you to follow me to Cowell’s shelter and be very quiet” he announced, his calm tone so different from usual, because he wasn’t just calm, he was _dull_. Zayn hated it, hated the missing spark in Harry’s green eyes.

None of them protested or asked anything as they silently made their way out of their shelter and right into Cowell’s. Simon’s shelter was just a camping tent, much too little for all of them, but they managed to cram themselves in, all of them sitting on the almost completely deflated air mattress.

“Simon, can you…” Harry said, but his voice broke.

Simon just reassuringly patted him on the shoulder and spoke, very quietly, in almost a whisper. “Lizzie didn’t drown” he said.

Zayn’s stomach flipped. “What do you mean?” he hissed.

Simon shook his head. “She had a cut on the back of her head. A big one. Her skull was broken. Lizzie died _before_ reaching the water. Someone killed her”

Zayn, who was sitting between Niall and Liam, felt Niall start to shake bodily. “What the fuck do you mean, how could anyone…”

Harry stood up. He faced all of them, his jaw set, and stared at each of them in the eyes for a moment before speaking again. “I decided to tell you all because you’re the _only_ people I trust at the moment” he said “I already knew Lizzie had been killed when everybody came to the shore. I saw the cut on her head, and I covered it because I didn’t want people to start panicking” he said, business-like. Zayn remembered the blood on Harry’s hands, the way Harry had told him that it was Lizzie’s.

“There’s more” Cowell said “The meds are being stolen. I’ve been looking at all our inventories for days now, and someone is stealing the meds that can be used as drugs. Like Oxy, Vicodin, Percocet”

Harry nodded. “I have no proof the meds and Lizzie’s death are related, but until further notice, I have to believe they are, because I can’t think of another reason for _anyone_ to kill a fucking child. Maybe Lizzie knew something. Maybe she saw something. I don’t know. I just wanted you all to know, because I want to trust at least you”

Zayn nodded. “What… what do you want us to do?”

“Be careful, first of all” Harry said “I don’t want anyone else to die. And… look around a little bit. If it’s drugs, it shouldn’t be hard to recognize the signs eventually”

They all nodded, and Harry did too. “Okay. You can go. I’m sorry I kept you from sleep this long today”

He didn’t say anything else before exiting the tent. Zayn ran after him. “Harry, Harry wait” he begged him.

Harry turned to Zayn, still with his dead eyes. “Yeah?”

“Please sleep at mine tonight?” Zayn asked, pathetically, and dreading that Harry would refuse “Please. I’m… I’m not ready to let you go tonight”

Harry didn’t answer for a long moment. “I have to be with the kids” he said at last.

“We can go” Louis joined their awful conversation “Me and Liam can sleep at yours with Niall. We’ll make sure they’re safe from now on. That okay?”

Harry stared at them, and then smiled. It was weak and painful, but it was _something_. “Okay. Cheers, lads”

Liam smiled. “No problem. Try to… get some rest, if not some sleep”

They retreated to Niall and Harry’s shelter, and Zayn risked all he had when he went for Harry’s hand. Harry let him grab it, and even entwined their fingers, although he didn’t speak.

When they were inside Zayn’s shelter, Harry was on him in an instant, kissing him and going for the hem of Zayn’s shirt, pulling at it to get it off him.

But no, no. Zayn didn’t want to, didn’t want Harry to cope with what had happened in the worst way possible, didn’t want to fucking _lose_ him like that. He wanted Harry to go back to his calm and happy self, he didn’t like the shell of a person in his arms in that moment.

So Zayn grabbed Harry’s wrists, and stopped him. “No, babe”

Harry frowned. “No?”

Zayn smiled and shook his head. “No” he repeated.

“Don’t you… I thought you liked it? I thought you wanted me?”

“You have no idea how much I want you” Zayn said honestly, with a sad chuckle “But not now. Now we’re gonna sleep, and you’re gonna take your time to mourn your loss, like you gave time to everyone to mourn their own losses here, and then you’ll be fine. I’ll help you, I promise. You saved my life in the crash, do you remember? I had a suitcase about to break my fucking skull. And you shielded me, let it drop on your back. Louis told me. And I remember. So now I’ll be the one shielding you”

Harry gaped a little at Zayn, his eyes wide open, and finally, _finally_ , Zayn saw tears forming and slide down his cheeks. Harry burst into tears a moment later, his face pressed to Zayn’s neck, and Zayn shushed him, stroking his back in slow soothing circles, whispering to him to let it out, because he didn’t want him to explode when it was too late.

Zayn gently pulled Harry towards his bed. It was made by two torn plane seats, tied together and covered with a blanket, but Zayn had learned to make it do. He slid under the scratchy covers with Harry, and they didn’t talk, but Harry cried all night.

It was good. It was _something_.

 

*

 

A week went by, and life went on, except not for Harry, not really.

He was still providing all the help he could around, and he was still having the kids eat and laugh like everything was normal, but Zayn had learned every little crevice of Harry’s face by then, and he knew most of his smiles were fake.

The only consolation was that Harry never pushed Zayn away. He could spend a whole day not talking if not extremely necessary, or he could spend a whole day just with the kids, ignoring everything else, but in the night Harry always crawled into bed with Zayn, wrapped around him with his face pressed in the crook of Zayn’s neck, and Zayn found himself breathing more easily.

Sometimes they spoke. Most of the time they didn’t. Nothing else happened between them, except a handful of kisses, just a fleeting press of their lips when Harry needed to be reminded that they were still alive, or when Zayn needed to make sure Harry was still there, his lovely heart and soul as intact as they could be after what had happened.

Harry was obsessed with the stolen medicines, and Zayn couldn’t blame him, because if there was even the slightest chance that the thief was the same person who had killed Lizzie, then Zayn wanted to know as well. Moreover, they _needed_ the meds. Zayn lived dreading the day in which someone would be sick or hurt, and the meds wouldn’t be enough to save them. He knew, in his heart, that that was how everyone was going to die, soon.

They still didn’t have any clue about who the culprit was.

Sometimes, Zayn would try to distract Harry, and Harry was too clever not to notice, but he let Zayn have his way nonetheless. Zayn asked Harry to show him around the plants, teach him which were poisonous and which were okay. Harry seemed to be more at ease around things he could control, like the flora of the island, so he always helped Zayn willingly, even mustering bright smiles that gave Zayn hope that Harry was going to be okay eventually.

Or, Zayn would ask Harry to go to the river on the other side of the island with him to fetch drinkable water, because the island was small, yes, but it still took a day of walking to get to the small spring where the only river started its course, and it was an occasion to have Harry for himself, egoistically, but also to make him stop thinking. Both of them, honestly.

That morning, Zayn took a huge breath before dragging Harry out of the shelter. They both tripped in the sand, and Harry swore in a way that made Zayn arch his eyebrows, impressed, and Harry himself squeal and turn to make sure none of the kids were around.

“My compliments for that one” Zayn grinned.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Where the _hell_ are you dragging me at dawn, Zayn?”

“To the sea” Zayn said, and imaginarily patted himself on the shoulder for how his voice was still calm and not shaking in the slightest.

Harry gaped. “The _sea_?” he repeated “Zayn, did you hit your head? You can’t swim”

“Exactly” Zayn declared “I can’t swim, and I need to, because I doubt I can stay clear of the sea for the rest of my life if I’m gonna stay here. So you’re gonna teach me today”

Harry arched his eyebrows, but Zayn knew he appreciated the way Zayn had talked like he was assuming they were gonna be alive for a little while longer. It was a very Hopeful thing to do, but Zayn had decided he was going to have hope both for himself and Harry until Harry would get totally back on his feet. He owed it to him.

“We need our shoes if we’re gonna take a swim in the sea” Harry told Zayn, crossing his arms on his chest with an eyebrow still arched “There are sea urchins around here, they’re fucking dangerous. And Simon doesn’t have the meds to treat you if they sting you”

Zayn fist-pumped and ran back inside their shelter to retrieve both his shoes and Harry’s, then grabbing Harry’s hand to pull him towards the shore. _I am going fucking mad over this man and I don’t think he really knows it, and I don’t think I really care_ , he thought.

“It will be harder to swim with the shoes though” Harry remarked once they reached the waves.

Zayn shrugged. “It’s fine. You’re with me” he said.

Harry stuttered, and Zayn saw him blush. He hadn’t blushed once since Lizzie’s death. _You’re okay, babe, you’re gonna be okay, I’ll make sure of it_.

Harry sighed, and grabbed Zayn’s hand. “If you see a jellyfish, you run” he told Zayn.

Zayn gulped down some air. “You ain’t exactly reassuring me, babe” he said while they entered the sea, Zayn carefully scanning the incredibly clear waters around him.

“If fear makes you be more careful, then I’ll scare the shit out of you”

Zayn laughed, a bit hysterically if he was honest, and they both stopped when the water barely reached their nipples. Harry chuckled and went underwater, re-emerging after a moment with a giggle and his curls plastered to his face.

Zayn was probably in love with Harry Styles, if he was honest. He just shook his head and let Harry reach for him, his big hands on Zayn’s waist. “You wanna be horizontal if you wanna swim, babe” Harry commented.

Zayn grinned. “I always wanna be horizontal if you’re around, babe” he retorted, and then he bit his own tongue, because they’d never talked about that after Lizzie had died, they hadn’t even tried to touch each other in that sense, and maybe Harry didn’t want to, maybe Harry regretted it.

But Harry just grinned back. It wasn’t as bright as Zayn had become used to, but it was okay. “I don’t think I would mind you being vertical as well, to be honest” Harry said.

Zayn choked on air. “Jesus” he breathed.

Harry laughed. “C’mon. Nice and slow” he said, pulling at Zayn’s hips a little bit.

Trying not to get too embarrassingly aroused by the situation, Zayn carefully set himself in horizontal position, the water doing nothing to sustain him. He kicked and gasped a little bit, but Harry’s hands ran under his back, keeping him up and in a straight position.

“This is very scary, I won’t lie” Zayn commented.

Harry chuckled. “I know, I know. Don’t worry. I’m here. You wanna try and float by yourself?”

Zayn’s heart was thumping loudly, and he regretted to admit that it was only slightly due to Harry towering over him. The rest was just plain, old fear.

He shook his head. “No no no not yet please”

“Okay, okay” Harry conceded “Try to relax, yeah? I’m here”

Zayn nodded, and levelled his breaths the best he could, hearing and feeling the water slosh around his ears. It wasn’t particularly cold, but it wasn’t warm either. The sun was rising, though, and even if it was still weak, the rays were hitting Zayn’s face and warming him up a little bit.

“Babe?” Harry said slowly.

Zayn hummed, his eyes closed.

“If I tell you something, do you promise not to freak out?”

“Why do people even find you so reassuring?” Zayn lamented.

Harry chuckled. “I’m not holding you anymore”

Only then Zayn felt the _absence_ of Harry’s hands under his back. He spluttered and kicked a little bit, opening his eyes, but Harry laughed. “No no no, don’t freak out, look at you, you’re doing fine!” he screamed, still laughing.

It was the best sound in the world, and Zayn had missed it so, so much. He obeyed Harry, trying to stop flailing his limbs, and realized that it was actually easier to be still and float than kick around the water. He closed his eyes again.

“So good, you’re doing great” Harry said.

His voice was far, so far. “Harry?” Zayn said alarmedly, not daring put his feet back on the ground or even opening his eyes once more “Harry, where did you go?”

“Listen to me?” Harry said calmly “Stretch your arms backwards. And slowly kick your feet, just a little. You’re gonna move. Do it for me, okay?”

“I hate you” Zayn said, but he did as Harry was asking.

He realized that Harry was right, and he was indeed moving forward. He kept doing that, until his hands touched something, and he screamed, jolting up and scrambling to put his feet on the sand.

The _something_ was Harry’s chest. He was there, giggling and covering his mouth, and his eyes were full of the mirth and the sparks Zayn was missing.

“Sorry, sorry” Harry laughed “You squealed like a fucking pig, oh my God, it was hilarious”

Zayn slapped the water and sent it splashing on Harry’s face. “You’re an arsehole”

“And you swam” Harry said proudly.

Zayn laughed. “Eh, I guess. You’re a shit teacher, to be honest”

Harry didn’t answer. He just grabbed Zayn’s wrist and hauled him closer, kissing him. “I miss you” Harry whispered on his lips “I miss your lips and your hands and the way you moan my name. One night wasn’t enough. It’s never gonna be enough”

Zayn smiled. “You weren’t ready, babe. I was waiting for you to really want it again”

Harry nodded. “I know, I know, and I think that’s how I understood that I love you” he said, gasping at what he’d just said, but Zayn just kissed him harder, his tongue sliding over Harry’s, because it was clear as day to Zayn, how much he also loved Harry.

“I love you too, for how you always help, for how you care, for every fucking thing you’ve ever done” Zayn whispered to Harry.

Harry sighed in their kiss, and Zayn shivered when he felt Harry’s hand slide down inside his shorts, gripping him tightly. He was already hard, despite the cold water, despite everything.

“I really want it again, now” Harry said.

Zayn frantically nodded, because he was already going fucking mad, his hands sliding up and down Harry’s forearms, fingers digging in the muscles there.

He let Harry grab him under his thighs and lift him as he walked them both out of the sea. He just kept kissing Harry, his arms around his neck, not even caring where they were going or who was gonna see them, because Harry was there, his eyes had the spark, and Zayn really didn’t care if they were going to die on that island.

“You mind being vertical?” Harry asked him on his lips, with a smirk.

Zayn laughed. “Babe, I can be vertical, horizontal and even oblique if it’s you”

Harry chuckled, and the next moment he was shoving Zayn against something hard, a tree, knocking the wind out of him and letting his legs go so he could set his feet on the sand again.

Harry moved to kneel, but honestly, Zayn was having none of it. He grabbed Harry by the shoulders and switched their positions, so that Harry was the one with his back to the tree, and Zayn was the one smirking and getting on his knees.

“Fuck” Harry whispered when Zayn hooked his fingers under the waistband of Harry’s swim trunks and pulled them down. Harry was hard, completely hard, and leaking.

Zayn slowly swirled his tongue around the head, and Harry gasped and bucked his hips, his hands going to grab Zayn’s hair without pulling it. When Harry started moaning louder, Zayn stopped. He let him go with an obscene _pop_ , and Harry immediately lowered his head to look down at Zayn, eyes begging him not to stop.

“Fuck my mouth” Zayn told him.

Harry’s mouth went slack. “What? Zayn, you don’t…”

“I want it. Give it to me” Zayn said earnestly.

Harry’s eyes went darker at that, and he nodded, tightening his grip on Zayn’s hair with a sigh. Zayn went down on him again, taking him halfway into his mouth, and waiting.

Harry’s first thrust was tentative, but when he realized Zayn was fine, he let out a shameless groan and started pushing Zayn’s head down on his dick harder while he thrust his hips forward at the same time. Zayn was fucking loving it.

“So good” Harry rasped “So fucking good, babe, you’re taking it so well”

Zayn couldn’t reply, of course, but he swallowed loudly around Harry’s dick in his throat, and Harry hissed and cursed and moaned. “You’re gonna make me come already, slow down slow down”

Zayn didn’t. He smirked to himself, and took Harry even deeper.

Harry let out a ragged breath and another loud moan, and Zayn hoped Harry had taken them far enough, or everyone was gonna hear them. As it was, Zayn didn’t really care.

He swallowed around Harry’s dick in his throat, and Harry came. Hard, with hot come dripping in Zayn’s mouth. He raised his eyes to Harry when he let him go, stared at him, and swallowed it all.

Harry’s eyes rolled in the back of his head, and his legs gave out. He kneeled right in front of Zayn, resting his forehead on Zayn’s collarbone. “Fuck” he breathed, still panting.

Zayn chuckled. “We need to go get your aloe”

Harry laughed hard.

 

*

 

Harry was better, but he still wasn’t really okay. His laughs were more careless than before, but the thought any of the others could be Lizzie’s killer was making him lose more and more sleep, and Zayn could see it on his face, even if Harry didn’t say it out loud.

Zayn often saw Harry flinch whenever people spoke to him, anyone who wasn’t the kids, or Cowell, or the lads. The doubt and anger was eating him alive, and there was no sneaked fuck in the woods or lovely walk to the river that could fix that.

Harry wouldn’t be okay unless he finally _knew_.

So Zayn kept him comfortable at night, spooning him and whispering sweet nothings in his ears until he finally fell asleep, and during the day he _looked_ , scanned everyone to notice just the slight tremor, the slight uneasiness, the slight recognizable movement of someone hooked on drugs, or craving.

Nothing came up for another two days, and Harry was very close to losing it.

 

*

 

That morning, Zayn woke up to an empty bed. Or, plane seat.

He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes with his palms and looking around the shelter. It was barely dawn, so Harry should have been still there. But he wasn’t, and Zayn sighed, putting his jeans on to go look for him.

Once it was clear Harry wasn’t even in the common area, or in his own shelter, Zayn started to panic. Harry rarely left without telling anyone, he knew it could be dangerous.

Zayn went closer to the shore, to have a clearer visual of the beach, and sure enough, he spotted Harry, just a tiny dot in the middle of nowhere, a big patch of sand surrounding him in the vegetation-less zone where he was standing, crouching and bending like he was writing something in the sand.

Zayn hadn’t been that far from the truth, he realized when he finally reached Harry. Harry was huffing and sniffling, his face red with tears, and he was dragging big stones from the farthest corner of the beach to there, where the sand was stretching for hectares, using the rocks to write something. He’d gone as far as drawing a gigantic S, and Zayn could clearly imagine the ‘O’ and the other ‘S’ Harry intended to write.

“What are you doing, Haz?” Zayn sighed, defeated.

Harry jolted a little at Zayn’s sudden presence, and he wiped his eyes with the hem of his shirt, making them even redder. “I’m looking for help. We’ve been stupid not to do it before. Someone’s bound to see it eventually”

“Oh, babe” Zayn sighed again, getting closer “Haz, you know no other plane ever passed by this place. No one’s gonna see it. You can keep giving _them_ hope, babe, but _you_ know what the situation is. They probably even stopped looking for us. It’s been more than a month”

Harry grunted and dropped a big stone in the sand, staring angrily at Zayn. “I have to _do something_ , Zayn!” he screamed, his cheeks purple from effort and anger “I need someone to find us because I failed _everyone_! I didn’t keep anyone safe, I didn’t keep Lizzie safe”

“ _You’re_ the one who put that weight on your own shoulders, Harry!” Zayn exclaimed “You didn’t have to, and I get that you wanted to do it anyway, but for the hundredth time, this is not your fault! You’re just hurting yourself, and how’s that gonna help anyone?”

Harry dropped his gaze on his own hands, his fingernails specked with blood from where he’d chipped them while handling the stones. “I don’t care about myself, Zayn” he said coldly “I care about the rest of you. We can’t keep living here, the food’s gonna go, the meds are gonna go, and we’re all gonna die, and I don’t want to accept it. So call me one of the Hopefuls you judge so much if you have to, I don’t care about that either”

“It’s pointless, Harry” Zayn said, taking a deep breath to avoid lashing out at him “What you’re doing is pointless, because you’re fucking wilting yourself away with all this guilt and this worry, and maybe you care about all of us, but you don’t care about _me_ if you think watching you lose your mind is gonna make it any better for _me_ ”

Harry stared numbly at Zayn. “You should be more hopeful too, Zayn, to be honest. It’s for your own good” he said in a snarl “Besides, just think about it. If someone finally comes and saves us, you can go back to your normal, happy life and forget this whole mess, ‘cause I’m sure there’s no way you would be with me if you had any other option anyway”

Zayn gaped at Harry, feeling each of his words slice like a knife through his stomach and heart. “What the fuck do you mean by that?” he asked, his tone getting harsher and louder without his control.

Harry shrugged unhappily. “I’m everyone’s second choice, Zayn. I’m sure you’re no different. The fucking is good, yeah, but I don’t think I could ever be more to you”

“What the fuck, Harry?” Zayn shouted “Who the fuck do you think I am? Do you even _know_ me a little? A good fuck? _A good fuck_?” he screamed in Harry’s face “Do you honestly think I would go to these lengths, trust you in the fucking ocean, spend time with you when you barely speak anyway, just ‘cause you’re a _good fuck_?” he grabbed Harry’s hands, feeling his own heart start to wilt away “You’re so much more to me, and it kills me that you’re never gonna see it”

Harry snatched his hand away from Zayn and turned to the stones, starting to drag them again to continue writing his message. “I’m never _more_ , Zayn. Never have been, never will be. Be honest with yourself. If we were in a normal city in Barbados like we were supposed to be, you would have booty-called me and kicked me out of your bed in the morning. If I was lucky enough to be allowed to stay the night, that is” he told Zayn, coldly, so coldly Zayn felt like Harry was repeatedly stabbing his heart with a shard of ice.

“You’re breaking my fucking heart, Harry” Zayn said, and his voice shook while tears started to blur his vision. He started backing away from Harry. “I don’t fucking know where all this anger you have comes from, because you never told me anything about your past, but I know it doesn’t have anything to do with me. I’ve always treated you like a fucking breakable gemstone, Harry, that’s how much I care about you, and if you’re too blind or angry to see it, it’s not on me, it’s on you. And _this_ is your only fault”

Harry looked at him, crying, but he didn’t open his mouth to reply. So Zayn backed off, away from him, and left him to his fucking SOS message.

The thing was, Zayn did know why Harry thought he couldn’t ever be anyone’s first choice, because Louis had told Zayn what had happened with Harry and his never-to-be-fiancé. So Zayn kind of understood. But the hurt for the fact that Harry would just assume Zayn would never choose him if they were in any other setting, that pain made Zayn so angry he felt hurt and spent and broken. As he retreated, away from Harry, Zayn carefully palmed his own chest to make sure his heart wasn’t really bleeding out of his body, because it surely felt that way.

 

*

 

Zayn bumped into Paul and James on his way back to his shelter. He dragged himself through the common area and barely managed to hold his wits enough to turn and say sorry to whoever of them he’d shouldered while walking.

“Are you okay?” Paul asked him, sniffling a bit and wiping his nose with the back of his hand. Zayn thought it was disgusting, but he just nodded.

“We heard you and Harry scream” James said in a careful tone “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Zayn nodded again. “Yeah. Sure. You seen Louis anywhere?” he asked, pathetically.

“He’s with Niall and the kids” Paul answered, doing his disgusting wiping his nose with his hand again.

“Do you have a cold?” Zayn asked, his heart beating unevenly. _Don’t get sick, we’re running out of meds, please don’t get sick I don’t want anyone else to die._

Paul shrugged. “Just a little bit” he said, shivering a little “It’s nothing, kid, don’t you worry about me. You already have your own man to worry about” he added, pointing to the shore.

Zayn turned and saw a very dishevelled Harry walk up to the common area. He looked at Zayn for a moment, something sad in his gaze, but Zayn didn’t want to face him again. “Not my man” he told Paul and James, and then walked away.

Louis was very caught up in a Jenga game with the kids, and he was telling them all the story about when Zayn got stuck in the bathroom during one of their shows when they were still a band.

Hollie giggled. “Louis! You just said Zayn’s stupid! He’s your _best friend_!”

Louis shrugged. “Best friends can be stupid, doll. Zayn didn’t even _get stuck_ in the toilet. He just didn’t think the lock could work in _another direction_ ”

“’Cause he only thinks about _One Direction_ ” Kyle grinned.

“Ooooooi!!” Louis screamed with a laugh while Kyle did the same, and they fist-bumped.

Zayn chuckled, and decided not to disturb them. His heart problems could fucking wait, if it meant Louis would keep having the kids laugh and be okay. He wondered if he was slowly morphing into Harry, and retrieved his tobacco from his shelter. He barely had enough for another five cigarettes, he thought with a sigh, but rolled one anyway, sitting under his favourite spot under the tree by the common area next to Harry and Niall’s shelter, the same spot in which Harry had brought him his hand-made rolling paper in what seemed a lifetime ago. It had barely been a week and a half.

He lighted the cigarette.

“Can I have one of those?”

Zayn looked up to find a grinning Jolene towering over him. “You smoke too, now?” he scowled.

“Nope” she said, popping the ‘p’ like Harry did sometimes “I just thought I ought to try. Since, you know, we’re all gonna die shortly and all that”

Zayn snorted. “We could have been good friends, kid” he said grimly, rolling a cigarette for her, not even minding that now he had only three left, instead of four.

Jolene took a first drag and coughed a bit, but managed to exhale the smoke. “Not a kid” she said “Besides, I believe we became best friends the night you convinced Harry to let me drink”

“Oh, right” Zayn chuckled “Forgot about that”

“I didn’t” Jolene replied, tying her flaming red hair in a bun “So, what’s wrong with you, best friend?”

“Why do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“Because I am an extremely sensitive and empathic person” she retorted “And ‘cause I heard you and Harry fight about him not believing he could be your first choice in normal circumstances”

Zayn stuttered a little bit, but didn’t know how to reply.

“Do you wanna know what I think about Harry, Zayn?” Jolene asked after a moment, staring at the sea.

“I guess you’re gonna tell me anyway?”

Jolene laughed. “Yeah, ‘cause men are stupid. That’s probably the reason I became a lesbian, to be honest”

“Are we going to tell each other how we had our homosexual awakenings or are you gonna get to your point, kid?” Zayn arched an eyebrow.

Jolene laughed again. “I think Harry is one of those people who think anyone even remotely decent is amazing, but they never manage to see how amazing they themselves are” she said “And with those people, you have to be very explicit about how you really see them, about what they are to you”

“I told him he was more” Zayn murmured.

She sighed. “I know, but did you tell him what _more_ means to you? Did you tell him _what_ he really is to you? No” she answered her own question without giving Zayn any time “You didn’t, because it’s so fucking clear to you how Harry is the most selfless person you’ve ever met, how he always puts everyone else before himself, how it feels like flowers start growing wherever he walks” she rolled her eyes “And it’s true. But the fact that it’s clear to you doesn’t necessarily mean it’s just as clear _to him_. So you have to _tell him_. Harry spent so much time with children, before this, and even here, and children always show him their love for him, openly. No cryptic sentences about _being more_ , no gestures which speak louder than words. You can’t really blame him if he wants you to do the same”

Zayn didn’t really know how to answer to that, but Jolene, in her eighteen-year-old wisdom, was right. Because Zayn had told Harry he was more, but his words had failed him when he’d tried to explain what _more_ meant to him. And Zayn had gone as far as telling Harry he loved him for caring and helping, but he’d never managed to just _stop_ the sentence a little earlier and just make the first three words count for themselves.

“When did you become so wise?” he joked, to lighten his own mood.

Jolene chuckled. “I have a very angsty girlfriend back home” she declared “Had to become good with my words to let her know she’s important, ‘cause she fucking is”

Zayn smiled, and couldn’t help himself. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in a hug while she complained and tried to push him away without really meaning to.

Zayn saw Paul, Grant and James walk up to the seabed to start fishing, and he saw Paul wipe his nose again.

“I really hope you’re not getting sick, Paul” he murmured.

Jolene hummed questioningly. “Paul? I don’t think he’s really sick, you know. I think he just misses his joints or summat”

Zayn felt his heart dangerously accelerate. “What do you mean?”

Jolene shrugged. “I dunno. It’s just, he’s been, like, shivering and shaking a lot? And he keeps asking Harry to go look for hallucinogenic plants as a joke, but I don’t really think he’s joking”

 _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._ Zayn nodded. “Yeah, maybe he misses the weed” he just said.

Jolene went to help Linda and Andrea with the fish for lunch after a while, and Zayn spent his day looking closely at Paul without being noticed.

He saw Harry around, of course, but he didn’t try to talk to him. He needed to be sure first, because he didn’t want Harry to throw a strop and confront Paul, making everyone else panicking, if they didn’t have any proof.

But as the day went by, Zayn realized it was clear Paul was craving. He was constantly shaking and shivering, his hands trembling whenever he held them still, and Zayn even saw him dig his hands in his pocket, only to then press one of his fingers against his nose and sniff.

“It’s Paul” Louis whispered to him that night, when they returned to their shelter.

Zayn nodded. “Yeah. I know”

“What do we do?”

Zayn sighed. “We tell Harry. But we need proof first”

“How?” Liam hissed.

Zayn sighed again. “There’s a bonfire tonight, right? You go and keep everyone there, especially Paul. Let me handle the rest”

 

*

 

Zayn didn’t think anyone was going to think it was weird that he wasn’t at the bonfire, because everybody knew by then that something was wrong between him and Harry.

So he sneaked out of his shelter, using the darkness that the bonfire wasn’t able to reach from that distance, and slowly crawled around all the other shelters until he reached the one Paul was sharing with James.

He slowly opened the door, wincing when it creaked, but as soon as he was inside, he barely had time to realize candles were already lit to light the space before a hand grabbed him by the collar and shoved him against the precarious steel wall.

It was Harry.

“Haz?” Zayn whimpered “Haz, what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Same thing you’re probably doing, because you’re stupid and of course you didn’t think to tell me before coming here”

“It’s not like _you_ told _me_ either”

Harry didn’t reply, but he let Zayn go. “I think it’s Paul. He’s clearly been craving, but he seemed fine tonight. So I’m guessing he still has some pills left” he said, roaming around the room “We just need to find them. I don’t even know which side is his and which is James’s”

Zayn pointed to the clusterfuck of things on the right side. “I think this is Paul’s. He’s disgusting and messy” he reasoned.

Harry, despite himself, snorted a chuckle. “I guess you’re right. He is kinda disgusting. And we even created a shower system with the buckets, so he has no fucking excuse”

Zayn agreed on that, and his heart thumped a little louder at the fact Harry was speaking to him again, was even smiling at him. He decided they would take care of Paul, and then if Harry Styles wanted him to declare his love in front of the whole bloody island, Zayn would.

He heard Harry gasp, crouched against the plane seat Paul used as a bed, and he kneeled next to him. “Here they are” Harry said, showing Zayn an almost empty container of Oxy with one hand, while the other kept searching under the bed. “Wait, there’s something e…”

Harry stopped speaking, and his face went pale even in the dim light of the candles as he retrieved another item from under Paul’s bed.

It was a rock, as big as Harry’s hand, and it was clearly stained with blood.

“Harry, Harry, breathe” Zayn said frantically, because Harry was starting to choke on nothing, his eyes filled with tears as the breath punched out of him in uneven gasps.

He squeezed Zayn’s arm, hard, so hard it hurt, but Zayn didn’t say it. “It’s him, Zayn” Harry hissed, his voice sounding wrong and alien “He killed my Lizzie”

Zayn really didn’t have time to answer before Harry was bolting out the door, the rock in his hand. It took him a moment to run after him, towards the fire and the people talking around it.

_Shit, the kids. The kids are still there._

“Haz, the kids!” he shouted, hoping that would be enough to stop Harry from whatever he wanted to do.

Harry didn’t even turn to answer. Niall, though, saw him coming in a rush, and went to meet him. “Niall, bring the kids inside, please” Harry said coldly.

Niall had probably learned not to question Harry when he was angry, and he fucking was now, and Zayn couldn’t really blame him.

He sighed in relief when he saw Niall usher the kids – all of them, while the other parents gave him weird looks – inside their shelter and close the door after going in with them.

“Harry…” Zayn tried to stop him again, but they were by the bonfire now, and everybody was looking at Harry like they were seeing a ghost.

Zayn guessed the anger in Harry’s eyes was just as scary.

Harry threw the rock at Paul’s feet. “It was you” he said.

Paul frowned. “Harry? You good?”

“Good?” Harry shouted “You killed my Lizzie, Paul. No use pretending you didn’t”

Everybody looked shocked as they stared at both Harry and Paul, but Harry wasn’t done. “You killed a _child_. And you’ve been stealing the meds, ‘cause you’re a fucking junkie, and I hate your fucking guts”

Paul’s face lost all its colour as he tried to back away from Harry, hands raised. “Harry, I don’t know what you mean, I…” he collided with James, but James grabbed him by the shoulders and kept him in place.

“Explain, Paul” Linda said coldly.

Paul didn’t answer. But Harry spoke. “Someone has been stealing the heavy drugs from doctor Cowell’s stash” he said “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I didn’t know who to trust, to be honest. I know it’s Paul, now. He has the tell-tale signs of drugs. I’ve been observing him. And I notice everything”

“What did you say about Lizzie, Harry?” Jolene asked, anger and shock in her young voice.

“Lizzie didn’t drown” Harry said, and his voice shook that time “She was hit in the head with a rock. And do you wanna know what I think, Paul? I think Lizzie saw you that night, while you were stealing. And you killed her to shut her up. She was a _child_ , Paul. A fucking _child_ , and you killed her” he whimpered, tears streaking his face.

James squeezed Paul’s arms harder. “Did you?”

“YES!” Paul screamed, trying to no avail to get free from James’s grip “Yes! And it would have gone unnoticed if the weather didn’t change so suddenly. She saw me in the med shelter, and I tried to coerce her into shutting up, told her I wanted to organize a surprise for Harry. She didn’t believe me”

“Lizzie was a kid, Paul, she wasn’t fucking dumb” Zayn said, shocked at how angry his own voice was.

Paul laughed, without any joy. “Well, she was kinda stupid, ‘cause she straight-up told me she was gonna tell Harry. I couldn’t have that. So I hit her in the head with that rock. I didn’t mean to kill her, I didn’t know children’s heads were so fucking _fragile_ ” he said “And I would have thrown the fucking rock away too, but after the kid died you all started being so worried about each other, and everybody was always _here_ , asking me where I was going every time, and I never had the _chance_ ”

Zayn felt Harry shake violently next to him, his breath hitching.

“I dragged her to the ocean and it would have carried her away, except the weather changed, and the currents too, so the body just ended up washing ashore in the morning again and _you_ found it ‘cause you couldn’t be with your _boyfriend_ just a little bit more and get some more dick, no, you _had_ to wake up at dawn and find her” Paul spat on the ground at Harry’s feet.

“You’re a monster” Andrea hissed “She was a child!”

“She was a fucking annoying _pest_ anyway!” Paul screamed.

Harry lurched forward.

Zayn tried to grab him by the t-shirt, but failed, and before even James could do anything, Harry had punched Paul straight in the face. Zayn heard the sickening sound of cartilage crushing, and he saw blood spilling under Harry’s fist.

The momentum caught James by surprise and he lost his grip on Paul. Paul gave Harry his own punch, and they both fell and rolled away on top of each other, next to the seashore.

“NO!” Zayn screamed when he saw Paul straddle Harry and press Harry’s face in the water. He ran to them with everyone else, and they all were on them as fast as they could, managing to grab Paul and get him away from Harry.

“Haz, babe, are you okay?” Zayn almost screamed on Harry’s face, cupping his cheeks to assess any damage even in the almost total darkness.

Harry spluttered water and sand, coughing, but he nodded. He tried to get up only to fall again, and then he screamed. Hard, like he’d been shot.

Zayn didn’t even have time to ask a question before Harry pushed him away, sending him tumbling in the opposite direction and then trying to cradle his leg like there was something wrong with it.

“Step back!” Cowell shouted “Fuck, oh, fuck”

“What?” Zayn yelled.

“Harry, I’m gonna lift you now, okay? It’s gonna hurt, just hang on” Cowell told Harry, ignoring Zayn and the feeling of impending doom in his chest about what was suddenly wrong with Harry.

He barely registered James, Robert and Jason tying up Paul with some ropes, because he was too busy scrambling on his feet and running after Cowell, who was transporting Harry bridal-style towards the bonfire.

When Cowell laid Harry down on one of the makeshift benches, Zayn realized what was wrong, and his stomach churned.

Stuck into Harry’s calf, there was a big, dark sea urchin.

 _There are sea urchins around here, they’re fucking dangerous. And Simon doesn’t have the meds to treat you if they sting you_ , Harry had told Zayn the day he’d tried to teach him how to swim.

Zayn thought that even when he was hurt, Harry had worried about Zayn, pushing him away because he was scared Zayn was gonna get hurt as well in the darkness.

“Fuck” Simon hissed.

“You can help him, right?” Zayn asked, desperately “You can do something, yeah?”

Simon shook his head. “I can get the thing out and give him painkillers. He needs antibiotics, Zayn. We don’t have ‘em anymore” he said defeatedly.

Harry started to violently shake, and almost crushed Zayn’s hand in his.

Zayn didn’t even know how to _start_ thinking about what he would do when Harry would die.

 

*

 

Zayn spent the next two hours holding Harry’s warm, too warm hand while Simon got rid of the sea urchin and of the poisonous spines which had broken in Harry’s flesh. Harry screamed the whole time, his back arching off the bed (plane seat) in his own shelter where they’d brought him, because it was the largest and would give Simon more room to work.

Zayn heard the kids cry outside the door, and he wished he could go tell them Harry would be just fine, but he couldn’t, because he _knew_ Harry was not gonna be fine.

Harry was gonna die, very painfully and very slowly, with no way for Zayn to do anything about it.

“I gave him painkillers” Simon told Zayn at last, when Harry’s leg was bandaged and he was asleep “He should be good for tonight. I’m sorry I can’t do more, Zayn”

Zayn shook his head. “It’s not your fault, Simon. It’s okay. Harry’s strong. Maybe he’s gonna survive this”

Simon didn’t answer, but there was no way to misinterpret his gaze. _There’s no way anyone could survive this without meds._

Simon left them alone, and closed the door after himself. Zayn heard him tell the kids that Harry needed to rest, and ignored the pang in his chest at the thought that _Zayn_ would eventually be the one to tell them Harry wasn’t there anymore.

“Haz, babe, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry” he whispered on the hand he was holding.

“Zayn?” Harry murmured.

Zayn raised his head so quickly he had whiplash. “Babe?”

“It’s not your fault, Zayn” Harry smiled weakly “It’s fine. It’s gonna be okay”

Zayn burst out crying. “It’s not, babe, we don’t have any antibiotics left and you need them”

“I know” Harry said calmly, and then shifted a bit on the bed “Come here? Please?”

Zayn shook his head. “You need to rest. This bed is already shit without anyone else in it”

Harry just arched his eyebrow and stared at Zayn, until Zayn gave up and crawled under the covers next to him, being very careful of his injured leg.

Harry let him adjust and then placed his cheek on Zayn’s chest. “Does it hurt?” Zayn asked, his throat constricting.

Harry shook his head. “Not that much at the moment. I’m sorry, babe”

“No need”

“But I am” Harry said more sternly “All the things you said to me when we fought, they’re true. I never told you shit about me. I thought it didn’t matter, I thought we would have _time_ ” he chuckled bitterly “And now I’m sorry our time is even shorter than what we thought. But I wanna tell you why I was a dick and thought all those things about you and everyone else”

“It’s fine, Harry, you don’t have to”

“But I want to”

“Okay” Zayn caved in with a sigh.

“I loved Nick so fucking much, Zayn” Harry said with another bitter chuckle “And I had no doubts that he felt the same. We’d been together three years, after all. So I was just happy, you know, when I bought the ring and I started planning our wedding. It hit me right in the heart, when he said no after I proposed. It was like, I hadn’t even _thought_ he would ever say no. But he did. Told me I was great, the fucking was great, but he wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment, probably never would be”

 _How could_ anyone _ever think that, babe?_ , Zayn thought, but he didn’t say, because he didn’t want to interrupt Harry. His body was almost scorching against Zayn’s, and Zayn tried not to think about the fever that was gonna take Harry away from him.

“Did Louis tell you why I was on that plane?” Harry asked.

Zayn, despite himself, wanted to be honest, so he nodded.

“It’s ironic, isn’t it?” Harry said “That I was planning our honeymoon to Barbados, and then Nick left me, and decided he was ready for the commitment _with someone else_ , and even to have his wedding in the place I always wanted to go to”

“Babe…”  
“That’s why I know all that shit about fruits and vegetables here. I’m an ace planner. I studied for the fucking honeymoon that never happened. And it’s also ironic that _his_ wedding is the very reason I’m stuck here and about to die now”

“You’re not gonna die”

“I am, babe” Harry smiled, more sincerely “I am, and it’s okay. I became one of the Hopefuls, after all. I have hope someone will find you. I have hope you’ll survive, because you deserve it. I know you love me, Zayn. I’d be a fool not to have noticed. I was just scared, because I thought I was loved once already, and I’d been mistaken. The thought it would happen again with you killed me”

“It never would” Zayn said frantically “I love you, Harry. I have many reasons. But I love you, period”

Harry smiled and raised his head a bit, so Zayn did the only thing he knew how to do.

He kissed Harry. His mouth and tongue were as hot as embers against Zayn’s skin, and Zayn felt his heart break all over again as they kissed with all they had, because it was bound to be one of their last kisses anyway.

“Zayn?” Harry drawled, about to fall asleep again.

“Yeah, babe?”

“Take care of the kids for me? Especially Kyle and Hollie? They need it” Harry asked, settling his face against Zayn’s chest again.

Zayn gulped down his tears. “Of course, babe. You don’t need to even ask”

Zayn tried to fight the sleep as best as he could, scared that he would wake up to a lifeless, motionless Harry, although he knew it was gonna take more time and more pain than that.

He didn’t manage to keep his eyes open for long anyway.

 

*

 

Zayn woke up to deafening sounds.

He didn’t understand the noises, and he just shook Harry awake, afraid some natural calamity was about to occur as well, like their shitty luck wasn’t enough.

Harry blinked, but he wasn’t even present enough to ask what was wrong.

Then, Zayn recognized the noises.

“Helicopters!” Niall shouted, entering the shelter “They saw your sign, Haz! They’re here to save us!”

Zayn laughed. Hard, probably harder than he’d ever done. He kissed Harry, his scorching lips chapped and dry, but it didn’t matter. “Harry has to go first” Zayn said “He needs the meds. All of ‘em”

Harry was still half-asleep, or half-dead, as Zayn carefully lifted him bridal-style and ran out of the fucking shelter.

There were two helicopters there, with two people in each. “ _You’re_ survivors from the flight to Barbados?” one of the pilots was asking Jolene “We didn’t even know where to look for you!”

“Clearly” Jolene rolled her eyes and crossed her arms “Now that you _found us_ , take Harry and save him. We’re fucking alive ‘cause of him”

 

*

 

Zayn had taken care that Harry and the kids would be the first to be transported away, to civilization. He noticed Paul was tied to a tree, but barely spared him a glance as they all got organized, waiting for more helicopters to save them all.

As Zayn was in another flying vehicle with Niall, Louis and Liam, he thought it was weird, that he wasn’t more scared than normal to be in the air again.

But he wasn’t. He was kinda calm, to be fair, and he even dared look at the island from the window, a small, insignificant island in the middle of the ocean. He saw Harry’s SOS in the sand, clearly visible. He thought that it was so fucking stupid, that all it took was a fucking sign, and help came in the span of a day.

“The island is not charted” the pilot told them “But we’re close to Barbados. We’re taking you all there to the hospital, to have you checked up. Your families have been already notified you’ve been found, and I believe a certain Mrs. Malik is raising hell with your manager to make him put her on a jet”

Zayn chuckled.

Trisha Malik, always too scared to go on a plane, and now demanding to be put in a jet. Go figure.

 

*

 

Zayn almost punched three or more nurses in the face when they told him he wasn’t family and so he couldn’t have any news about Harry. After Zayn made an unnecessary fuss, Cowell had grabbed him by the collar and told him to behave, before asking the other doctors and coming back with the info that Harry was alive and well, stuffed with antibiotics and even a tetanus shot to be safe.

Simon managed to have them all sneak into Harry’s room, but Zayn told them he’d join them in a moment, and instead went to look for Kyle and Hollie first.

He’d promised Harry, he owed it to him, and also, Zayn felt the need to make sure the kids were okay for himself as well.

They were also fine, and very happy to see a familiar face.

Zayn wondered how the fuck he was gonna get separated from those kids. He decided he wouldn’t, for now, and silently ushered them towards Harry’s room.

Harry was alive and well indeed, sitting on a _real_ bed with his back propped against _real_ pillows, and when he saw Zayn had gone looking for the kids first, the gaze he sent his way was a bit overwhelmed, a bit proud, a bit teary.

 _I am fucking gone for the man, and now he knows it, I guess_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very sorry for making Harry always suffer so much, forgive me my baby, it's for the sake of the plot.  
> Stay in tune for a short epilogue later today, just to tie some loose ends and indulge in a little bit of fluff 'cause we all love it, don't lie.  
> Let me know what you think and come talk to me on tumblr at wont-you-stay-till-the-am.tumblr.com if you wanna chat about past and future works :)


	4. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're not anybody's second choice".

 

 

_Two years later_

_Good luck, babe. If we survived a deserted island, you can survive stage fright._

Zayn chuckles as he reads Harry’s text, the same text Harry sends him every night Zayn has a show. He knows Harry’s coming for this one, but traffic has been crazy, and Zayn doubts Harry can make it backstage before he has to start.

It doesn’t matter, though, because he has Harry every moment, in their house, in their bed, in their kitchen and in their garden, forever and maybe a bit after that.

Is it cheesy? Yes. Is it true? Yes, too.

Zayn smiles as the curtain lifts and his show starts. It has taken him a while to get back on his feet, and this is his first big show since the island. The crowd is crazy big, so many people Zayn can’t even start to count them, filling the arena to the brim.

He smiles down when he reaches the edge of the stage, and sure enough, a flaming red haired girl waves at him and winks. He winks back, sending Jolene a kiss, and she rolls her eyes but catches the kiss in the air anyway.

The show goes brilliantly, and just before it’s the turn of _Good Years_ , Zayn stops and sits on his stool, his beloved guitar clutched to his chest.

“The song I’m about to sing has a new meaning for me now, you know, after everything went crashing, quite literally” he says in his mic, and the audience gives an awkward laugh “Now, it reminds me of a person who saved my life, on multiple occasions, most of the time without even realizing it. It’s cheesy as fuck, I know, but bear with me, ‘cause this person needs the words, sometimes. So babe, this is me, telling you again. You’re not anybody’s second choice. You’re _my_ first choice, forever, and even a little bit after that, and I’ll choose you every day until I die. I wouldn’t have married you otherwise, would I?” Zayn smiles down, clearly seeing Jolene gag “This is _Good Years_ , and tonight, it’s for my Harry”

When Zayn finishes the show and heads backstage, he’s attacked by wild curls and flailing limbs and a smacking kiss on his lips. “I love you so fucking much” Harry whispers on his mouth.

“Well, good, babe, otherwise I made a fool of myself for nothing out there” Zayn retorts with a grin and literally zero heat behind his words.

Harry grins back, and hands Zayn some kind of envelope. “What’s this?” Zayn asks.

Harry giggles. “Open it”

When Zayn opens it, his heart flips.

_It is hereby confirmed that Zayn Malik-Styles and Harry Malik-Styles are deemed fit for the adoption of Kyle Parker and Hollie Mendes._

Zayn chokes on air. “What?!” he shouts “It’s done?! Finally? Already? When are we taking them home? When, Harry?”

Harry chuckles fondly. “Tomorrow. They’re at Niall’s now. I thought we could enjoy our last night alone in the house”

Zayn laughs and grabs Harry by the waist, lifting him up a little bit and kissing him. “I’m happy, babe” he whispers on his lips.

Harry nods. “Me too”

“Do you wanna go home and eat? I’m fucking starving”

Harry nods again. “I’ll make you soup. I bought sweet potatoes and yuca root. They’re not particularly fresh, but they’ll have to do”

“Just imagine if we were in a place where they actually grew next to us” Zayn grins.

Harry rolls his eyes. “Shut up, Zayn”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing this, it's been a mess dealing with all the research about tropical flora and makeshift stuff, but I loved every second of it. I hope you enjoyed it just as much.  
> Till next time!


End file.
